


The Crow and the Butterfly

by warbreaker



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon Foreshadowing, Child Death, Conspiracy Theories, Depression, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Family Drama, Hatespeech, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, Loss of Faith, M/M, Male Masturbation, Married Life, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of kidnapping, Minor Pop Culture References, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pseudo-Love Triangles, Relationship Issues, Sexual Content, Smoking, Sports Jargon, Unreliable Narrator, mentions of domestic violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:25:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 65,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2689370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warbreaker/pseuds/warbreaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A closer look at the timeline of events in Sebastian's life from the year 2012 - specifically, the loss of his child, the deterioration of his marriage, his descent into alcoholism, and his trip and fall for his best friend.</p>
<p>NOTE: This story was written before the release of The Assignment and The Consequence DLCs. It is no longer an accurate reflection of game canon and should not be used as a guide. For all intents and purposes, this story is now an AU. If you need a plot guide for The Evil Within, there's a link to one in the story notes.</p>
<p>**COMPLETE**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winter

**Author's Note:**

> For those looking for a plot guide to The Evil Within, there's an ongoing project to break it all down piece by piece [right here](https://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0By0ovX2xcmoVfmx5RWdOX28wZXQwQkIzUlFzTWhuMVFSWkdYQWFXZTZ4d2VBakxwc2IzWTA&usp=sharing). Keep checking back incrementally for updates, as more essays outlining more of the plot will be added as soon as they are written.
> 
> Story titled after and inspired by the song "The Crow & the Butterfly" by Shinedown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a bit of a heads up, I took a few liberties with my headcanons about Seb and Myra's families, because I had to believe that they were present in SOME form throughout this whole thing. Hopefully they aren't too off-base or offensive. Enjoy!

**February 10, 2012**

"Oh, _fuck off_ with that."

Sebastian was still recovering from his fit of laughter even as he spoke. Seated opposite of him, Joseph did his best to give a flatline stare over the rim of his coffee cup, but Sebastian could see that he was holding back laughter, too.

"It's a legitimate theory," Joseph said. "Well, 'legitimate' in that I've heard it before. I don't actually know if any reputable sources have put their weight behind it. It's what the whole movie is based on, though. At the very least, it should be interesting when it comes out."

"I can't wait to miss it," Sebastian returned. He leaned forward and rested his elbow on his desk, pointing his pen in Joseph's direction as he continued. "You and I have seen enough bullshit over the tenure of our partnership to know that there's no such thing as good or evil in human nature. Some people are just dicks, and others are victims. That's all there is to it."

"I wonder what your priest would have to say about that," Joseph teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He was so damn pleased with himself for that line.

Sebastian leaned back against his chair and rolled his eyes, giving Joseph a jerking off motion in response to how he felt about that statement. This conversation had gotten them way off track, besides. They had work that they really needed to be doing. It wasn't often that they got distracted like this, but it still happened from time to time.

"Spoken like a true Catholic," his partner laughed as he put down his cup of coffee. "You're a real role model in your community, Seb."

"I try."

Sebastian took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts so that they could return to the task at hand. The Elk River serial killings had somehow fallen to him and Joseph, and there was so much paperwork and bullshit that they needed to sort through. Not that Sebastian wasn't excited to be handling the most high-profile case in the department, but sometimes his job could be so damn _tedious._

The door to their office slammed open. Both detectives snapped to attention.

"Detective Castellanos!"

Sebastian relaxed as he looked to see that it was only Connelly at the door. It'd been a long time since Sebastian had been particularly friendly with anyone outside of the homicide unit just due to the nature of the work, but he still knew some of the lower-ranked officers by name and face. Strange to see Connelly, of all people, busting his door down, though. He was medical police and an emergency responder. What the hell was he doing here?

"We got a call in a few minutes ago," he said, panicked and breathless. It was clear that he was struggling for words. "There's a fire."

"That's very nice, Connelly," Sebastian said to him. "You know that this is homicide, right?"

"I _know_ that," he said. "But, Detective... It's _your_ house."

Sebastian's heart stopped beating. 

_Lily._

In the next second he was on his feet, already pulling his coat on. His mind was racing at a mile a minute, and he was damn thankful for it, too. If he'd had the mental clarity to pin down any of his thoughts and hear what was in them, he was sure he'd hate what he found.

"I'd have told you sooner," Connelly said, "but I didn't realize it was your place til I ran the address for a contact number."

"Where's my wife?" he asked. "Did you tell her? Does she know?"

"She's out at a site," Connelly said. "We've been trying to reach her, but I don't think they got through yet."

"Shit."

Sebastian all but ran out of the building, making a beeline to his car with Joseph right on his heels. His heartbeat was so loud between his ears that he almost felt like his head was going to explode; he couldn't even hear the slam of the car door beside him. As soon as he turned the ignition, the lights and siren went on, and he tore ass out of there. On a regular day in normal traffic, it was a forty-five minute commute between his house and the precinct. Sebastian was determined to make it in ten.

Neither he nor Joseph spoke during the drive. For a time, Sebastian forgot that his partner was even there. He had a white-knuckle grip on the wheel, and the only thing he could afford to focus on was the road ahead. His natural inclination as a father to start panicking was at odds with his trained discipline to remain calm as an officer, and it resulted in an almost dissociative feeling. He was simply detached from the reality of what was happening, almost like it was happening to someone else.

He saw the smoke first, black and terrible, as it billowed up over the skyline. There was too much of it for it to be a simple kitchen fire, and the closer he got, the more he realized that there was too much to even be controlled. His heart sank as he cut the wheel and rounded a corner. Squad cars and fire engines were gathered across nearly half of the block, and there was already a sizeable crowd standing on the opposite side of the street to watch the display.

The entire house was in flames.

Sebastian damn near caused the transmission to drop as he slammed his car into park and got out to survey the scene. Between the crowd, the cars, the trucks, and everything else, it was hard to get a determination on what, exactly, was happening. There were still ambulances open and waiting, but from where he was standing, it didn't look like they were actually treating anyone. He couldn't see a single face that he recognized. Though he looked to Joseph for some kind of confirmation that he was missing something or that things were better than he looked, his partner had an expression on his face that was just as worried and hopeless as he felt himself.

Terror gripped at his chest and touched at the back of his eyes, but he forcefully shoved it aside. There was no reason to jump to conclusions yet. For all he knew, they could have already taken Lily to the hospital for treatment. He wouldn't know until he got closer.

"Who's in charge here?" he demanded, approaching the first fire engine that he could get to.

"That'd be me," an older-looking firefighter said. He was probably in his late fifties - a stocky, balding, greying man who looked like he'd been in this position far too many times. He gave Sebastian a flat stare. "Who's asking?"

Sebastian pushed the open panel of his coat out of the way and grabbed at his belt in order to draw attention to his badge. "Detective Castellanos, KCPD. Where are the survivors?"

"They're sending detectives out to these things now?" the firefighter asked. "Usually we talk to the arson squad first."

"Goddamn it," Sebastian spat, quickly losing his calm demeanor. "Look, I don't have time for this. _Where_ the are the survivors?"

"Haven't found any yet, Detective," the firefighter said. "Flames are too high. It's damn near impossible to navigate inside."

He balked, and his brain struggled to make sense of the information that his eardrums had just provided. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It took all of his strength and willpower to stay calm; he couldn't afford to start panicking now.

"You haven't _found_ any yet?" he repeated back. His words were acid. "There's a five-year-old little girl in there! Where is she?"

"Alright, alright. Just take it easy," the firefighter said. "We're doing everything we can. We're gonna find-"

"So, she's still in there," Sebastian cut him off. He was shaking now, and he wasn't sure if it was from fear or rage. "That - that's what you're telling me. She's still inside that fucking house."

The firefighter gave an exasperated sigh and a single nod of his head.

"That's what I'm tellin' you, Detective."

Sebastian panicked.

He didn't remember taking off his coat or his shoulder harness, but neither of them were on his person as he took off at a sprint. The faint sound of Joseph's voice yelling his name hit his ears, but it was gone from his mind in an instant. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. The only thing that stood between him and his daughter was a group of beat cops that had the scene sealed off to civilians, and Sebastian barreled through it without thinking. For a split second, one of the first responders caught him and tried to block his path, but he went down easy with a single right hook to the jaw.

The front door to his house had already been busted open by the time he reached it, but he was immediately greeted by smoke and flames. Embers burned at his eyes, and the intense heat made the air shift and dance around him. It was a surreal moment, to be standing in the front hall of his own home and seeing his whole life burn, blacken, and warp behind tongues of orange fire.

" _Lily!_ "

He could barely hear himself over the roar of the inferno. Thick smoke choked him at his nose and throat, temporarily disabling his voice as he coughed and sputtered. Sebastian covered his face with both arms as he moved forward, leaping over smaller flames on the floor in an attempt to reach the staircase. If his daughter was anywhere, she would most likely be in her bedroom.

He dropped his arms and shouted for her again, looking around to get a better survey of his immediate area. It was almost impossible to see. His eyes watered and stung, and it felt like his lungs had caught spark and lit up just like the house itself. Keeping his head down, he took another shuffling step forward. Sebastian couldn't breathe without coughing, though even sometimes when he coughed, he still couldn't breathe. He didn't care. 

He reached the staircase, only to find that there was no clear pathway up. Nearly the entire right half had been engulfed in flames, and he couldn't see the top through the smoke. Staying as close to the left wall as possible, he took the first stair. Then the second. And then collapsed on the third step, falling to his hands and knees as he succumbed to another coughing fit. 

_No. No, goddamn it!_ He couldn't stop here. He had to get up, had to get moving. He was so fucking close. It wasn't too late. She could still be alive. He just had to fucking _get up._

Strong hands grabbed him from behind and yanked him backwards and onto his feet.

"Fuck!" he shouted around coughs. "No! _Let go!_ " 

Sebastian sputtered, flailed, and shouted, but there were two of them and only one of him, and the firefighters who'd caught him were far better equipped for this environment than he was. They all but carried him out of the house like a petulant child, even as he struggled and thrashed and fought against them. Every step they took away from the staircase was a step further away from rescuing Lily. By dragging him out of there, they were killing her.

" _Lily!_ "

The air outside the house was so much cooler and cleaner that it nearly knocked him out. They set him down on the ground just behind one of the ambulances, and Sebastian was too stunned and weak to fight back anymore. Even in the fresh air, he felt like he couldn't breathe, and the lack of oxygen made him dizzy and disoriented. There were voices buzzing around his head, but he couldn't determine where they were or who they belonged to.

"Get this man into oxygen."

"Already on it."

"Not that he deserves it. Fucking idiot, running in there like that. The hell is he thinking?"

"Did you see he knocked that guy out on the way in?"

"No, I didn't see it. Did he really?"

"Yeah, dude. A fuckin' cop, even."

"Jesus."

Joseph's voice rose above the others. He sounded pissed.

"Don't you people have jobs you need to get back to?" he snapped.

A female EMT placed an oxygen mask over Sebastian's nose and mouth, and she held it in place for him as she pulled the elastic strap over and around his head. There were cool drops of condensation gathered on the inside of the mask; the air was slightly humidified, and it felt good to his scorched lungs. He idly wondered if he'd damaged them permanently.

"Take slow, deep breaths," the EMT told him. She had a kind voice. "Okay? Easy."

Sebastian's vision was still blurry, but he could make out a few fuzzed images of people retreating and Joseph standing over him with his hands balled into fists. He looked over at the EMT next. Jesus, she was young. Were they letting high school kids do this shit now?

Was this really what he should've been thinking about?

"Do you think you have the strength to sit up?" the EMT asked. "It'd open your airways a little more."

Sebastian tried to respond to her verbally, but his voice completely failed him. Instead, it was all he could do to clear his throat and nod. He shifted his weight, trying to roll over onto his right side in order to push himself up, but it was more of an effort than he'd expected. The EMT was right there at his side with a hand behind his shoulder, and Sebastian suspected that she was the only reason he was even off the ground at all.

"Here, let me help," Joseph said.

With help from both the EMT and Joseph, Sebastian was able to sit up all the way and lean himself against the ramp that led into the ambulance. The metal was freezing against his back, even through his shirt and vest, but it was a godsend after the intense heat of the flames.

"I put your coat and your gun in the car for safekeeping," Joseph told him. "And, in case you were curious, you dislocated Nelson's jaw."

No part of him cared.

"Joseph," he croaked weakly through the mask. "How long does it take for someone to die of smoke inhalation?"

"Well, it depends on the circumstances," he said. "There's no set time limit. For you, running into a burning building and fighting with firefighters, you could have been dead in under a minute. But... you're not asking about you... are you?"

He shook his head. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness crept inside him and took up residency at the pit of his stomach.

"If she stays close to the ground and away from the worst parts of it," Joseph told him, "she could very well live long enough for the flames to be put out and for someone to come find her. Lily's a smart girl. I'm sure she's fine."

"She's five, Joseph," he said weakly.

"And more resourceful than half of the goons here put together."

While that should have brought him some form of comfort, it only served to make him feel worse. Those goons were the only hope his daughter had of surviving.

"Sebastian!"

Myra's voice cut through the faint buzzing in his head, and he heard her running for him. She knelt down beside him, opposite of Joseph, and placed a gentle, comforting hand on the center of his chest. There was cold fear behind her blue eyes - the same paralyzing terror that Sebastian had felt as he knelt coughing on the stairs. It was too much. He reached up and gently tucked a stray bit of brown hair behind her ear before affectionately running his fingertips across the line of her jaw.

"What happened to you?" she asked. "Where's Lily?"

Sebastian dropped his hand back to the ground and shook his head pitifully.

"I couldn't find her."

The expression on his wife's face changed from fear to disbelief to despair as the enormity of his statement dawned on her. She took a deep but shaky breath and stood up, turning from him so that she could watch the scene instead. The next few moments came as a nonsensical blur. Sebastian completely lost all sense of time, and he wasn't sure if he was sitting there for seconds, minutes, or hours. Eventually, though, he felt strong enough to breathe without the aid of the oxygen mask, and even strong enough to stand up with Joseph's help. The fire still wasn't out. If anything, it seemed to be getting worse.

He joined Myra where she stood and wordlessly curled his hand around hers as they watched the entire life they'd built together get swallowed up by flames. No matter how much time passed, no one ever came out of the house carrying his little girl. He didn't know if they were even still looking. He just had to believe in the small hope that Joseph gave him - that she could live through this if they got things under control before it was too late.

All the while, his left hand was at his own throat, clutching the cross he wore at his neck as he whispered off every prayer he knew how to say. The necklace itself had been a gift from his grandfather, who told him that it was special; it'd been blessed by a Cardinal back in Spain. That had to mean something, right? It _had_ to matter. Sebastian couldn't recall a time in his life that he needed God more than he did now.

A loud _crack_ cut through the air. The right side of the roof collapsed, and it took down a quarter of the whole house with it. An enormous cloud of smoke traveled up into the sky as the wood gave way to allow it to escape. Beams split and the drywall crumbled beneath the sheer weight of the fallen roof.

In that exact moment, Sebastian knew that his daughter was dead. He didn't realize that the voice he heard screaming was his own.

\--

**February 12, 2012**

He'd quit smoking the day he found out Myra was pregnant. Their home turned into a pit of hell and chaos for the following few weeks, with Myra's hormones fluctuating like crazy and Sebastian's short temper from quitting cold turkey, but it passed quickly enough, and it was worth it in the end. By the time Lily was born, his cravings were few and far between, though they never went away completely.

Now that she was dead, he didn't really see the point in resisting them anymore.

They were staying at Myra's brother's house for the time being. He and his wife had taken them in without question or hesitation, but Sebastian still felt like an intruder in their home. They'd had the weekend to ground themselves and take the next steps to moving forward, and Brian and Emma had helped with that, but tomorrow morning life would have to go on. His in-laws would send their kids off to school, they would go to work, and Sebastian and Myra would be left to keep picking up whatever few pieces still remained of their life. He couldn't stand it.

That alone seemed like reason enough to start smoking again. Sebastian ashed his cigarette into the yellow tray in front of him before taking another drag. The nicotine was calming, and the smoke itself helped fight back some of the cold of the night. The last few nights had been particularly brutal, and it just made the idea of an all-encompassing fire seem that much more ironic.

He heard the back door slide open behind him, but he made no effort to turn to see who it was. Whoever they were, they slowly closed the door behind them and hesitated a few seconds before stepping forward. It was Myra who came into his periphery.

"You're smoking again?" she asked, though it sounded more like a statement of fact than a question.

Her tone surprised him the most. There was nothing angry or accusing in her words, which was what Sebastian had been expecting; she'd never liked or approved of this little habit of his. There only existed a small, sad sense of genuine curiosity in her voice. Sebastian turned his head to look at her, and he nodded numbly.

"Yeah," he said.

Myra looked to be completely stunned, and she visibly struggled with her words before she got them out.

"Our daughter died in a _fire_ ," she said, sounding as lost and defeated as she looked. It didn't suit her. "We haven't even buried her yet. And you're _smoking?_ "

Sebastian swallowed hard and took a breath. When she said it like that, it sounded like the worst thing in the world. He hadn't even thought of it in those terms; he'd only been looking for some small source of comfort in any form it dared to take. While the urge rose up within him to snuff out his cigarette right then and there, he didn't. It wouldn't change things.

"I guess so," he said.

His wife didn't have a response. She merely stared at him with a frustrated, puzzled look on her face, like he was some sort of baffling case that she needed to crack. He turned away from her and took another long drag of his cigarette, assuming the conversation to be over.

As he went to go ash his cigarette again, he was surprised by the sight of Myra approaching the table and snatching up his pack. He hesitated, fully expecting her to rear back and throw it away as far as she possibly could, but she didn't. She pulled out a cigarette and placed it between her lips before dropping the pack down onto the table and picking up the lighter in its place. Sebastian's heart sank in his chest, unsure of what to make of the scene that was playing out right in front of his eyes. This was something he'd never wanted to see, and it was something he'd never expected to. She only coughed once after lighting the cigarette and taking her first puff, and it was all Sebastian could do to stare.

"If you can throw away your faith and your cross," she said, "then I'm allowed to throw away some of my principles, too. It's only fair."

"I'm not judging you," he said.

"I knew you wouldn't."

Myra pulled a chair out from the other side of the table and pushed it up against the side of Sebastian's. She plopped down next to him and continued smoking, and the reality of it tore him up inside. He had no intentions of objecting or trying to stop her, but she really must have been hurting if this was what she was resorting to. Sebastian reached over and butted out his own cigarette in the ash tray; he was mostly finished with it already anyway. As his wife sidled up against him, he instinctively threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close, pressing a lingering kiss against her temple.

"I love you," he murmured to her softly, "so much."

She turned her face towards his, and before he even had time to make sense of what was happening, she caught his lips in a kiss. It was simple, close-mouthed, and tender, but it was the first one they'd shared since the accident. Sebastian closed his eyes and gingerly placed his hand on the side of her neck and jaw, tilting her head in order to lead her into something a little deeper. She parted her lips for him and met him in a slow, passionate, near-perfect kiss. And just for that moment, Sebastian felt a little less hopeless.

When they parted, it was only just barely. They stayed close enough that their noses still touched and warm breath was shared between them. Myra's chest shuddered when she exhaled, betraying the onset of tears, but Sebastian was quick to catch them and wipe them away with his thumb. As far as he knew, she hadn't cried yet at all. It would be good for her to get it out.

"I really," she breathed, licking her lips as she gathered her thoughts, " _really_ needed to hear that right now. Thank you."

He made a silent vow to himself right then and there to say those words to her every day for the rest of his life.

\--

**February 14, 2012**

They buried her on Valentine's Day. It seemed almost appropriate in a dark, twisted way. On a day wholly dedicated to the concept of love, Sebastian and Myra said goodbye to the one they loved most.

The hours leading up to the service had nearly been a complete catastrophe, but it was no less than Sebastian expected from his family. He and his sister were at each other's throats almost immediately, once she noticed his cross missing and he said the words "fuck God" or "there is no God" (he couldn't really remember which, and it didn't matter). His mother, then, of course, butted in and made the situation worse, and as always, dad had to come in and break everyone up. It was almost unbelievable. Sebastian was thirty-five goddamn years old, and his sister Teresa was thirty-two, and _still_ they had to be separated and put in time out like a couple of screaming toddlers. The last thing Sebastian had expected to feel when he sat down for his daughter's service was unbridled anger, but it dissipated as soon as the Father called for silence.

He went through the service numb, and he honestly didn't even hear most of it. Though his body was physically present in the front pew, with one arm around Myra and his other hand in hers, his mind was miles and miles away. It was probably some defense mechanism to keep himself from shutting down completely, but he was jolted right back to reality as soon as the service ended. He and Myra were the only pallbearers for that tiny coffin, and the walk out of that church was the longest and most terrible moment of his life. He couldn't have done it without his wife beside him.

And now it was over. Night had settled in. And Sebastian and Myra were left lying beside one another in their bed in Brian's guest room, both unmoving as they stared at the ceiling in silence. Life had to go on, but Sebastian wasn't sure how to achieve that when he didn't know how to even make it through the night.

"I won't be able to sleep tonight," Myra said, breaking the silence. Her voice sounded distant and empty, and so much unlike her. "Maybe not ever again."

"Me neither," he said.

Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. Every time Sebastian tried to close his eyes, all he could see was the burnt and broken body of his daughter, which he'd insisted on seeing before the end. If he hadn't already known he was looking at Lily, he wouldn't have known. It seemed so surreal at the time, but now it wouldn't leave him. Now, it was the realest thing in the world.

"We can't just lay here," he said. "We should... try to do _something._ "

"Do you think we should have sex?" she asked.

The question was so unexpected that Sebastian wasn't even sure he'd heard her correctly at first. He blinked in surprise, then slowly turned his head to look at her. Only the faint outline of her silhouette was visible in the darkness of the room, even though she was only a few scant inches away. She kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling and never once tried to look back at him.

Well. It sure as hell would get their mind off of things for a while, and logic dictated that it might even wear them out enough that they might get some sleep. It felt so odd, though, the idea of having sex in a house that wasn't theirs, mere hours after burying their daughter, while his fourteen-year-old nephew slept in the room beside them. Sebastian wasn't sure if he'd be able to perform at all, when he was honest with himself.

"We could try," he said.

She nodded faintly. "Okay."

Though the decision had been made, neither of them made the move to act on it.

\--

**February 29, 2012**

The insurance company was nice enough to cover a down payment on a new house, but the rest of it had been nothing but red tape and bullshit. All the same, the day that they'd gotten the hell out of Myra's brother's house and into one of their own was the best one they'd had since the accident. That was over a week ago now. They hadn't had another good day since.

Sebastian gave a gentle knock on the door frame as he stepped into the room that they'd turned into a home office, just to let Myra know he was there. She was so completely absorbed in her work that she wouldn't have noticed him otherwise. Even then, she made no effort to pull herself from her work or acknowledge his presence at all. Some days, he wondered if she even realized he still lived here in this house with her.

"Myra," he said, stopping about a foot away from her desk.

She didn't answer. Sebastian sighed audibly and shook his head, feeling completely helpless. It was getting late now - damn near one in the morning - and he really didn't have the energy for this bullcrap. He wasn't even sure why he even kept trying, when he got the same response every single night.

"Are you coming to bed?" he asked.

"Not now, Sebastian," she droned out, like an automated response from a machine.

It drove him fucking crazy. It wasn't so much that he was angry with her; he was just so goddamn _worried._ This was becoming a nightly routine, and it wasn't like her at all. For as long as he'd known her, Myra had always been such an animated, vibrant woman. Looking at her now, slumped over her desk with her head in her hand and her brown hair falling out of a sloppily-tied bun, he barely even recognized her. She didn't seem to care about anything or anyone anymore, not even herself, unless it was tied to her work. Most nights, she didn't even spare him a passing glance. They still hadn't had sex. Not since before the accident.

"I'm worried about you," he said.

"I'm fine," she snapped.

"No, you're not," he insisted. "You can't keep going at this pace. You're going to work yourself into the ground."

She straightened her posture a bit, but she still refused to look at him. "I'm just trying to keep my mind off of things. Just leave me alone and let me do my work."

Dear god, he was sick of hearing that.

"You know what else will get your mind off of things?" he pressed. " _Sleeping._ "

"I sleep," she said.

"When?"

Myra put her pen down and leaned back a bit in order to take a deep, steadying breath. It was only then that she turned to look at him. The expression on her face shocked him. There was no light behind her eyes; she looked completely hollow. Haunted. Sebastian stumbled mentally, and all of his frustration drained from him at once.

"I don't want to fight," she said.

"I'm not trying to pick one," he told her. "We've been in this house for over a week. Except for that first night, I haven't once fallen asleep with you beside me. I miss you."

Guilt crossed her features. It made her look so much older than she was. "I'm sorry. I just need a little bit more time."

Sebastian shook his head again, but otherwise said nothing. That was Myra-ese for _I'm still not coming to bed._ He wasn't going to win this one, and it made him feel miserable. As much as he wanted to give her her space and let her work through Lily's death in her own way, this wasn't healthy - not for her, and not for their marriage. But he didn't know what else to do.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He closed the space between them and leaned down to give her a quick, chaste kiss on the forehead.

"I love you," he said softly. "Good night."

"Good night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Constructive criticism is always welcome.


	2. Spring

**March 9, 2012**

Sebastian wasn't sure if this was his fourth glass of whiskey or his fifth, but he supposed it didn't really matter. The booze kept him warm at night, and it was an adequate replacement for the weight of his wife's body sleeping beside him and the intimacy of her touch.

\--

**March 23, 2012**

The vibration from his phone caught his attention before the screen even lit up. With an annoyed sigh, Sebastian leaned forward and grabbed the thing off of the coffee table. It was Joseph calling, because of _course_ it was Joseph calling. No one else ever called him anymore, though it wasn't like he'd answer either way. In that sense, maybe it was a little hypocritical of him to chastise Myra for ignoring him, because Sebastian himself sure as fuck didn't want to be bothered most nights, either.

He tossed his phone back onto the table and sank into the couch again. The call went to voicemail, and Sebastian took another sip of his whiskey. He just wanted to be left alone. Just the mere thought of going out with Joseph or any of the other guys made him want to stab his own eyes out. It wasn't that he didn't want to see them, it was just that he didn't have the strength to put on a face and pretend that everything was okay.

Nothing was okay. It hadn't been okay in almost two months. He just needed a little more time to grieve. That was all. The guys would understand. Then he would find some way to make things okay again.

\--

**April 1, 2012**

4:03 am. The light from the clock was blinding.

Sebastian closed his eyes and rolled over in bed. His brain was still fuzzy from light sleep and heavy drinking, and it made his whole head feel weighted against the pillow. He wasn't quite sure if he was nauseous enough to get up or confident enough to stay put, so he shifted his position slightly and rubbed at his eyes -

\- and was shocked to see another person lying in bed beside him.

Myra was already asleep by the time he discovered her, sprawled out on her stomach and facing away from him. Any nausea or lingering drunkenness that Sebastian might have felt immediately drained out of him, and he pushed himself halfway up into a sitting position in order to get a better look. So, she really _did_ sleep - and she slept _beside_ him, no less. He half assumed she just passed out over the desk every night, not ever bothering to lie down or relax. She looked so peaceful now, though, breathing deep and steady, and without a hint of worry or trouble creased onto her beautiful face.

Sebastian reached over and gently brushed the hair away from her face and neck. Myra sighed softly in her sleep, and he couldn't hold back the smile that crept onto his face as he watched her. It was such a small, simple thing, but _this_ was the feeling he'd been missing for so long. Just having her in the bed with him was a bit of normalcy that he hadn't known since they'd moved into this house. He leaned down and pressed an affectionate kiss against her shoulder before settling back against the mattress and cuddling up beside her. His alarm would be going off in three hours, but those three hours were going to get him the best sleep he'd had since the fire.

\--

**April 14, 2012**

Myra actually joined him for a drink tonight. Sebastian fully expected it to be a drink in commiseration, and for the whole thing to be a somber experience, but it'd turned out to be anything but. One drink turned into two, then three. Then they were out on the back porch, both slightly drunk, smoking up a storm and laughing - actually _laughing_ \- just like they always used to.

Before he even knew what hit him, they were heading upstairs towards the bedroom, tearing each other's clothes off and marking each other's bodies with their mouths like a couple of horny teenagers. Myra had barely even gotten him inside the room before she slammed him up against the wall, dropped to her knees, and took his cock into her mouth. Sebastian hadn't even been fully hard yet - but, then again, his wife had always enjoyed the feeling of having his cock stiffen in her hand or her mouth. It gave her a sense of satisfaction, she told him. Made her hot to see how hot she was making him.

She kept her eyes trained on him the whole time - those big, icy blue eyes. They drew him in, trapped him, held him in place as she had her way with him. Even when he felt himself hit the back of her throat, she didn't once flinch or look away. Fuck, it'd been so long since she'd gone down on him like this - even before everything went to hell. Sebastian was sweating and trembling and gasping for breath as she brought him right to the very edge, and he whimpered pathetically when she backed off right at the very last second.

When he tried to return the favor, she wouldn't hear of it. She had him on the bed now, and she straddled him as she kept him pinned down by his wrists. He stared up at her, silently pleading with her to let him touch her, to let him put his mouth on her, to let him do _something_ \- _anything._ A sideways smile tugging at her lips was her only response. She was getting off too hard on physically overpowering him; there wasn't a chance in hell she was going to let him free, no matter how submissive and obedient she knew he'd be regardless.

"Goddamn it, Myra," he whined, breaking eye contact by rolling his head to the side.

"Is there something you feel that you need to say to me, Sebastian?" she asked. He could hear the dark amusement in her voice.

About a million things bubbled up inside of him, all of them some form of complaint about how cruel she was, or about how unfair it was for her to hold him down like this after going so long without touching him at all. But in the heat of the moment, they all just seemed so fucking petty. Whining about their relationship now would just be counterproductive.

"I needed this," he said finally, looking up at her again with half-lidded eyes. "Needed you."

"Me too," she replied.

She leaned down and caught his ear lobe between her lips, and he gasped and tensed beneath the sensation. That had always been one of his more sensitive areas, and he couldn't help but groan in appreciation as she gently sucked at it.

"Do you think I've forgotten how fucking hot the man I married is?" she whispered to him. "I know I've been distant lately, but so have you. It's been torture. Sometimes when I'm in the shower, I wish you'd come in with me. Push me up against the wall. Fuck me til I scream."

Sebastian blew out a shallow, heavy breath. His head was spinning, both from the lingering effects of the alcohol and from the intense speed that his pulse was racing. Fuck, he had no idea. He struggled against her grip, testing the waters to see if she wanted him to flip her over and take control, but her hold around his wrists only tightened until it restricted his blood flow.

"Sometimes I touch myself when I'm in there," she went on. "I think about you when I fuck myself, Sebastian, and I say your name when I come. I'm surprised you've never heard me."

Just her words were enough to have him panting and desperate. He'd never heard her before because he'd never listened for it. Myra always showered at night, usually before she went to sleep. Sebastian was typically passed out or drunk by then, because he saw no reason not to be. If she didn't want to come to bed with him, he wouldn't have ever thought in a million years that she'd wanted him to join her in the shower.

He'd have to remember that for later.

Myra ended up riding him like she was charging into battle - fierce and determined and fully enjoying herself every step of the way. Sebastian couldn't get over the sight of her mounted on his cock or the sounds she made as he rocked his hips to meet hers again and again. She shouted his name as she succumbed to a violent climax, and he was right there along with her, coming so hard he saw stars.

When they were done and she finally climbed down off of him, it took him a second to regain his bearings. He tried to wipe the sweat from his brow, but the sweat from his hand only made it worse. Scowling and shifting his weight a bit, he glanced down at himself. Muted panic gripped at him. There was blood on his cock. The feeling fled just as quickly as it arrived, though, and was replaced by the sobering realization that it was simply a testament to how long it'd been since the last time they had sex. He looked over at his wife, who was still panting and sweating on the bed beside him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked.

"If you did, I liked it," she smiled breathlessly. Not a damn care in the world.

Her cheerfulness was contagious. They migrated to the shower for round two, where Sebastian helped Myra live out her fantasy. It was his turn to be the dominant one. He supported her weight entirely, holding her knees at his waist as he pounded her mercilessly into the wall. The heavy steam that filled the room was nearly suffocating, but the hot water felt good beating against his back as his wife tensed and moaned and begged him not to stop.

That night, Sebastian went to bed tired, satisfied, happy - and, for once, with his wife beside him and curled up in his arms.

\--

**April 18, 2012**

"Sebastian, aren't you coming?" Joseph asked.

"No," he said gruffly. "I'm going to stay here and try to get some more work done. You go on ahead."

Joseph hesitated, and Sebastian could feel his gaze upon him. Even though his eyes were still trained downwards at his notes, he swore he could see the lines of worry wrinkle their way into his partner's brow. That man could read him like a book. It was useful on the job, but in situations like this, Sebastian really wished that he knew a better way to disengage. Anxiety bubbled up inside of him and wrapped its fingers around his lungs as the seconds ticked by in silence. Damn, was this what Myra felt like every night he came and bothered her to come to bed?

"You've been working longer hours lately," Joseph said. "Is everything alright? It's almost like you're trying to avoid going home."

There was his detective's mind at work again. Sebastian shook his head and tried to wave him away, but Joseph was having none of it.

"Seb," he pressed. "You know you can talk to me. And I'm not leaving until I know that you're going to be alright."

Damn it. Sebastian should have known that this was coming eventually. He'd been reclusive ever since the accident - he knew it, he didn't have to be told. While Joseph had respected his privacy enough to not push the matter, Sebastian could see him growing more and more concerned and frustrated with every rebuffed attempt to talk to him about anything non-work-related or to get him out of the house. The man was more than just his partner; he was his best friend, the godfather of his daughter - and Sebastian had just shut him out like he was nothing. It'd only been a matter of time before Joseph cornered him and tried to force some answers out of him.

With a sigh, Sebastian lifted his head and motioned for his partner to take a seat, which he did dutifully. It was hard to collect the words and get them out. Joseph knew that things weren't great between him and Myra - there was no way he couldn't - but it wasn't something they'd ever really talked about before now.

"I slept on the couch last night," he said finally.

Joseph's expression changed from worry to confusion to disbelief. "What?"

It wasn't an entirely accurate statement. Sebastian had _passed out_ on the couch last night in a drunken stupor. That bout of drinking and hot sex from the other night was apparently a giant fluke, because when they tried to have sex again on Monday, sober, it was an absolute fucking disaster. Neither of them had their hearts in it, and it more or less amounted to pathetic thrusting and disinterested sighs. Sebastian ended up coming eventually, though that was probably too strong of a word for it. He'd ejaculated, but there was nothing behind it, and it left him feeling hollow and unsatisfied. Myra hadn't finished at all. He was so embarrassed and ashamed of his pitiful performance that he couldn't even bring himself to make it up the stairs at all last night - not that Myra would've joined him in bed either way.

Still, it was the easiest way to convey to Joseph that things were decidedly rotten in his marriage. Sebastian rubbed at his brow in frustration and leaned forward against his desk.

"Yeah," he said simply.

"I suspected things were tense, but," Joseph said carefully, "I had no idea it was this bad. How long has this been going on?"

"Since the day of the accident, pretty much," he sighed.

"I'm sorry," his partner said sincerely. "Is there anything I can do?"

A wave of guilt washed over him. Would that he could, if only Sebastian could find the strength to open up to him about it in a way more meaningful than this.

Though, as time had gone on, he'd convinced himself that it was better this way. He felt like the world had ended, the night of the fire. He'd failed as a father. He was now failing as a husband. He may as well fail as a best friend, too. If the only thing he was good for in this world was the work he did, then he was content to throw himself into it head first. To hell with everything else. Myra didn't need him, and Joseph probably didn't, either.

"No," he said. "We just need more time. We'll get through it."

"You know, Sebastian," Joseph said, "if you ever need anywhere to go, my door is always open. I mean it. I know the last few months have been rough for you, but it's not healthy to just lock yourself away like that, and I'd rather you slept on the futon in the spare room at my apartment than on your couch. Just... something to keep in mind."

Sebastian nodded at him numbly, already knowing he would never, ever take him up on that offer.

"Thanks, Joseph."

\--

**May 5, 2012**

The world was spinning when Sebastian knocked on Joseph's door. He knew he didn't have to knock. He never knocked. Neither of them did. But that was back before everything had happened - back when Sebastian still remembered what it was like to have and be a part of a family. For all intents and purposes, he and Joseph had been family. Now, though, he had no idea what they were. He had no idea what anything was. All he knew was that he needed to lie the fuck down before he collapsed right there on the front step. Thank god Joseph's apartment was on the ground floor. Stairs would have made this journey literally impossible.

It felt like years before his partner finally opened the door. He was slightly disheveled-looking and bleary-eyed from sleep, and he was still cleaning the lenses of his glasses with the bottom hem of his shirt. Sebastian waited for him to finish and put them on his face, partially out of respect and partially because he had absolutely no goddamn idea what to even say.

"Sebastian?" Joseph asked. "It's three in the morning. What on earth are you doing here?"

"I can't be in that fucking house anymore, Joseph," he said. "I can't... I can't fucking stand it."

"Are you drunk?" his partner asked. "Wait - you didn't drive here, did you?"

"Fuck no," he said. "I took the fuckin - the subway. The hell do you take me for?"

"These days, I'm not too sure," he said.

Sebastian hesitated. His drunk brain couldn't tell if he was supposed to be offended by that. He was pretty sure he was, and he probably would have been if it'd been anyone else who said it, but because it came from Joseph, it was probably okay. Right?

"Anyway, come on inside," Joseph went on. "I'm not going to send you back out into the world at this time of night. Not in this state."

Sebastian headed inside and left his coat and shoes by the door. He wasn't stumbling drunk or sloppy, or even slurring his words. He'd just had a few drinks, is all. He really didn't see what the big deal was. After all, he was a grown-ass man, capable of making his own decisions. 

Joseph made his way into the kitchen, turning the lights on as he went. Sebastian headed for the couch, because he just needed to get off of his feet. Just for a moment. Even when he closed his eyes, the world still felt like it was spinning, and he didn't know how to stop it.

"Here." Joseph's voice. Sebastian felt him sit down on the couch beside him. "Drink some water. You'll feel better once you sober up a bit."

He wasn't sure just how much he agreed with that statement, but Sebastian opened his eyes and took the bottle from Joseph's hand regardless. The water, at least, was nice and cold, and that in and of itself was refreshing. He drained about a quarter of the bottle, and the two of them sat there in a silence that wasn't wholly uncomfortable. It was nice to know that that much hadn't changed - that he could just sit in a room with Joseph without either of them needing to say a word - that they could just be content with each other's company.

It wasn't to last forever, though; good things never did. A third party soon came and joined them on the couch - namely, Joseph's cat. She jumped up onto the cushions and rubbed her head against Sebastian's arm affectionately. Hina was always vying for his attention every time he came over, and she probably missed him in his extended absence. He offered her a tiny smile and a few gentle scratches behind her ear, and she took that as a cue to flop down into his lap and start purring.

"At least someone's happy to see me," he said as he continued to pet and pamper her. He was probably going to be covered in black fur by the time he left.

"You spoil her, you know," Joseph said.

"I can afford to spoil her," he said. "She's not my cat."

Joseph gave him a flat stare. "No wonder why you're everyone's favorite uncle. You must be a real nightmare for your sister and your in-laws."

"It seems like I'm everyone's nightmare these days," he said morosely.

Sebastian took another long sip of his water, but he knew that it was going to take so much more than this one bottle to sober him up. To the left of him, he heard Joseph blow out a heavy breath through his nose.

"Well, while we're already on the topic," Joseph said, "it's not that I'm _not_ happy to see you. When I said my door was always open, I meant it. I just... didn't expect you to have been drinking. I'm surprised. That's not like you."

He laughed a cold, bitter laugh at that. Just how long had it really been since he and Joseph were together outside of a work setting? It seemed like this shit should've been common knowledge by now.

"You'd be hard-pressed to find a night that I'm not," he said.

The silence that fell between them was deafening, and Sebastian immediately regretted his admission. He wasn't even sure why he'd said it. After all of his stubborn bluster about keeping his private life private and decidedly cutting everyone else off from it, he really had screwed the pooch on that tonight, hadn't he? He looked down at Hina, as though she would have any answers for him, but she was already well on her way to falling asleep.

"Sorry," he said. "I don't know why I said that."

"Maybe you said it because it's the truth," Joseph said. "Christ, Seb, is _that_ why you don't come out anymore? Why you don't even answer your phone most nights? Because you're already drunk?"

Sebastian merely shook his head, feeling completely awful. This wasn't how he'd wanted this to go. He'd made the executive decision to come down here because he was slowly going crazy, feeling trapped inside his house - trapped in his failing marriage. Another attempt at initiating intimacy with his wife had been met by a stone wall. Myra had pushed him away like he was a needy child, and he could barely even cope with how much it hurt. Part of him wondered if all those things she'd said to him during their one successful run last month had been nothing but bullshit, spurned on only by circumstance and liquor. 

He just felt like he needed to see a friendly face, after that. The fact of the matter was that he was just so damn lonely, and so tired of going to bed alone in a house filled with ghosts. It shouldn't have felt that way - _he_ shouldn't have felt that way. Myra wasn't a ghost. She wasn't dead, or gone, or just a memory. She was a real, living, breathing person - the woman he'd married, the mother of his child, the one person he loved most in this world - and she was only ever a hundred feet away in the next room over. But damn if it didn't feel that way most nights.

"Sebastian," Joseph said gently. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I really think you need to talk to someone."

"I'm talking to you right now," he said.

"That isn't what I mean, and you know it," his partner said. "You need to talk to a professional. Someone who can really help you."

"Jesus, Joseph," he said. "I'm drunk, not crazy."

"I didn't say you were," he said. "Therapy isn't just for crazy people. It's for anyone who's having problems in life - problems they can't get past on their own. There's nothing shameful about it, and no one could blame you for it, after everything you've been through."

"You think I'm becoming an alcoholic."

"I didn't say that, either."

"Yeah, well, I'm not," Sebastian snapped at him. "I have my priorities in order. I show up at work on time every day, and I don't let any of my mental shit get in the way of what I do. As far as I'm concerned, nothing else matters."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Joseph asked. "You have your priorities in order, but you show up on my doorstep drunk at three in the morning? And you drink every night? For god's sake, Sebastian, there's more to life than just work. You need _help._ "

"I didn't come here for a lecture," he spat.

"I'm not trying to lecture you, Seb," Joseph said, his voice pleading.

"Well, you're doing a pisspoor job, if not."

"Would you just _listen_ to me?" He was starting to sound desperate. "This is the first time I've seen you outside of the office in three months. _Three months,_ Sebastian. I miss you."

That struck him hard. _I miss you._ It was the same exact thing he'd said to Myra when he started to feel her really pull away from him, back when he first came to suspect that there were only more dark days ahead for their marriage. That kind of pain never went away. It was still with him now; it was the reason he showed up here in the first place. It hurt so damn much to be so close to someone, to see them every day, and to miss them as though they weren't really there at all. He had no idea that Joseph was going through the same thing with him. It made him feel guilty; it made him feel sick.

"You used to be one of the happiest people I'd ever met in my life," Joseph went on, his voice much weaker now. "I envied you for that, but I respected you for it, too. It used to be such a joy just being around you, Seb. Your happiness, your enthusiasm for life... it was contagious. Do you have any idea what it was like for me back in the very beginning, being partnered with someone who I thought could do anything? Even if I eventually found out what an idiot he could be from time to time... You always kept me at my best. I never thanked you for that. I guess I'm doing it now."

Silence crept in around them again. Sebastian was starting to feel shockingly sober, and he hadn't even finished his first bottle of water yet. The last thing he'd ever expected coming here was this kind of raw, honest emotion. He just sort of figured that he'd wander in, curl up with the cat, and pass out on Joseph's futon. When he was drunk, he was always in the mindset that everything could wait until tomorrow. To have it all stripped and laid bare before him now was too much. 

Maybe _this_ was the real reason he'd come here tonight, after all. Joseph never yes-ed him, never bullshit him, never let him just get away with doing what he wanted. Maybe Sebastian had come here looking for an ass-kicking, because god only knew he needed one. He'd never anticipated it to take this form, though. A punch to the face was one thing, but this was something else entirely.

"I love you, Sebastian," Joseph said, breaking the silence. "I know that that's not a conventional thing that men say to each other, but I think it needs to be said. I think you need to hear it. You're the closest friend I've ever had, and I love you. You can't ask me to just stand aside and watch you drown yourself. You owe me that much."

Sebastian's chest trembled as he exhaled and the stark realization dawned on him that it was the first time since February that he'd heard those three words spoken by anyone other than himself.

\--

**May 7, 2012**

Mondays were Sebastian's day to bring the coffee. He closed the door to the office he shared with Joseph with his ass, since both hands were currently full, and headed for Joseph's desk first in order to pass off his drink. He set the cup down on the desk beside the monitor.

"Thanks," his partner said.

"You'd better be thankful," Sebastian said, taking his seat. "I nearly had to jump the counter to get that for you on time."

"That's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me," Joseph remarked.

Sebastian gave him a deadpan stare and flipped him the bird with his free hand. His partner's only response was a mild chuckle around the rim of his cup. Shaking his head, Sebastian settled back in his chair and took a sip of his own drink, trying to mentally prepare himself for the day ahead. The weekend had been so disorienting that he wasn't exactly sure where he'd left off on Friday. He'd have to go through his notes - or, more likely, Joseph's, since his partner usually had more detailed and organized notes by leaps and bounds.

Today, though, it was harder than usual to get back on track. It was almost disturbing how immediately he and Joseph had slipped into their normal, casual rapport, like nothing had ever even happened between them. And maybe it _was_ nothing. Maybe Sebastian was making a huge fucking deal out of absolutely nothing, but it sure as hell didn't _feel_ like nothing.

It really served to show just how much he'd lost his sense of perspective over the past few months. It was easy for everything from the other night to seem like a big deal when it was the only interaction he'd had with Joseph since the accident. Maybe if he'd had more to go off of, it wouldn't feel so enormous. But the sheer amount of honest concern and affection that Joseph had shown him really rattled him to his core, and Sebastian hadn't been able to get it out of his mind.

He couldn't let it continue. It'd only get worse from here, and it was already toeing the line of being inappropriate.

"Hey, Seb," Joseph said cautiously. "About what happened on Saturday..."

Well, so much for it being nothing.

"It won't happen again," he said.

"That wasn't what I was going to say."

"Maybe not," he returned, "but it's what I _needed_ to say. It was out of line, and I shouldn't have put that on you. I won't let it happen again."

That didn't seem to be what Joseph expected or even wanted to hear, and Sebastian was utterly baffled by the idea. How was setting up boundaries and apologizing for being a pain in the ass in any way a _bad_ thing? The expression on his partner's face spoke for itself, though. Whatever his reasons, Joseph didn't seem to be looking for an apology, and he wasn't at all impressed with the one he got.

"So," he said, "should I take that to mean that you're not going to make the effort to talk to someone?"

"I don't need to," Sebastian said bitterly with a shake of his head. The statement was one of finality; this wasn't open for discussion.

Joseph didn't argue. He merely kept his eyes trained on Sebastian and pressed his lips together to a thin line as he thought.

"Well, then," he said, "we have a lot to get done today. I suppose we ought to get started."

\--

**May 8, 2012**

They still shared meals together, and that was at least worth something in Sebastian's book. Breakfast and dinner seemed to be the most he saw of his wife anymore, but in light of everything else, he wasn't about to start complaining. He was grateful to have at least this much. Sure, sometimes things were tense or strained, and sometimes neither of them spoke, but those days were actually few and far between. They were still husband and wife - coworkers, at the very least - not strangers in each other's home.

"Joseph cornered me in the hallway today," Myra said as she reached for her wine. "Dragged me into my office. Is everything okay between you two?"

Myra _always_ had a glass of wine with dinner; that much hadn't changed in all the time Sebastian had known her. He hesitated at her question, idly forking through the food on his plate in an attempt to push back the immediate sense of annoyance he felt. 

Well, that answered two of his questions from earlier in the day, he supposed: why a simple bathroom break had taken Joseph as long as it had, and why he came back looking like he wanted to throw a punch at someone. Still, the very idea that his best friend was going behind his back to tattle on him to his wife just pissed him off beyond measure.

"I thought so, until now," he said. With a sigh, he put his fork down and sat back in his chair, giving Myra a flat stare. There was no use in trying to hide his frustration from her; she could read him even better than Joseph could. "What'd he say to you?"

"Not a _whole_ lot," she said. "He asked how I was doing. Asked how we were doing. But he did it in that very Joseph way where I could tell he was mentally picking apart every little thing that came out of my mouth, because I guess he didn't trust me to tell him the truth."

"That doesn't surprise me," he said, reaching for his own drink. Water for him. Sebastian didn't normally break out the liquor until after he ate. "What'd you tell him?"

"Well, I," she said, "you know, I told him I was hanging in there. I told him... things were rough, but they could be worse, and we both still needed some time to sort through everything."

He pursed his lips as he studied her. There was more to this. She wouldn't have brought it up at all if it'd only been a few idle questions about her well-being. She and Joseph were close enough on a personal level for something like that to be common and expected, and Sebastian was sure that it wasn't the first time since the accident that Joseph asked Myra how she was doing and if she needed anything.

"And?" he asked.

"And," she said, "then... He told me he that he was really worried about you, and that he couldn't talk to you about it, because you weren't having it. That you got into one of your pissy little moods at him every time he brought it up. Of course, it was said a lot nicer than that, because it's Joseph, but that was pretty much the message."

He sighed immediately and shook his head in frustration. Of course. _Of course_ that's what happened.

"Now, he didn't go into detail," she went on, "and I'm _sure_ there's more to this that he didn't tell me, because he's a faithful wife and won't betray your trust, not even to me, but..."

Sebastian wondered if the reproach he felt was as plain on his face as he thought it was, though he wasn't sure if it was directed at Joseph or if it was directed at Myra. Back before everything had happened, remarks about Joseph being his second wife and being in love with him had been nothing more than just playful ribbing, but tonight that hit on someplace sensitive. As much as it pissed him off that his partner went over his head like this, Sebastian felt an instinctive, near-violent urge to stand up for him and defend him against even the mildest of Myra's teasing. 

Yeah. His reaction to this whole thing was completely inappropriate. He swallowed down his feelings and filed them away to be dealt with at a later date. Or never. Preferably never.

"I think he thinks you're developing a drinking problem," Myra concluded. "Or maybe even that you already have one. I tried to stick up for you and tell him that having a drink or two to help you get to sleep wasn't necessarily a bad thing, considering all that'd happened, but that only seemed to piss him off."

"He thinks I should talk to a therapist," Sebastian told her.

"Maybe you should," she said. "Maybe we both should."

He couldn't believe his ears. Myra took a few more bites of her food, and it was all Sebastian could do to stare at her in astonishment. Of all of the things he'd expected her to say, this was at the absolute bottom of the list.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked.

"In a perfect world, maybe," she said, "but I'm self-aware enough to know that that's just never going to happen. Fuck's sake, Sebastian, you and I can't even talk to _each other_ most days. How are we ever going to be expected to talk to some stranger?"

"Maybe we should try talking to each other more, then," he said.

"Okay," she said, putting her fork down and looking him in the face. "Go ahead. I'm listening. Talk to me."

He froze. A thousand thoughts came to mind, each tied to a thousand feelings, but he couldn't pin down any single one of them long enough to make sense of it. There was just so much he wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her how ridiculously unhappy he was; how much he hated the way she shut him out; how ungodly lonely he felt even when he was with her; how desperate he was for her touch; how worthless and unsexy she made him feel; how badly he wanted to earn her approval again; how much of a failure he felt like at all hours of the day; how he drank because he was so desperate to just feel _nothing_ at all; how much he needed her to tell him that she still loved him; how he thought he was the only one of the two of them who even gave a shit about this relationship anymore; how he'd felt a deeper emotional connection with Joseph in the span of a few hours than he had with her over the last three months of their marriage, and how ridiculously confused that made him feel.

But the words never came.

Myra lifted her brow and dropped her eyes, shaking her head as she sat back in her chair.

"Yeah," she sighed. "That's what I thought."

Sebastian looked away then, too, knowing that he had no one to blame but himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit goes to my buddy GG for Hina the cat and a few lines of Joseph's dialogue.
> 
> I've seen so many fics dealing with Joseph's feelings for Sebastian, and how he keeps them hidden and locked away because of how inappropriate they are, but I haven't seen any dealing with Sebastian's. Arguably, his are even more intense, especially if you subscribe to the theory that Ruvik uses them against him. So, I wanted to explore that a little bit.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is very much welcome. Thank you so much for reading.


	3. June & July, pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "Summer" chapter got incredibly too long, so I had to split it up into three different parts. 
> 
> The official theme song for this chapter is "Down Poison" by 3 Doors Down.

**June 2, 2012**

_Sebastian, it's Joseph. It's about eight o'clock at night._

_I really wish you'd at least answer your phone, even if you've already been drinking. It'd be nice to know that you were still alive, so that I don't have to come into work guessing every Monday._

_... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That was completely unfair and uncalled for._

_Just... give me a call, alright?_

_Hina says hi._

\--

**June 6, 2012**

Sebastian only ever got drunk after his failed attempts at corralling Myra into bed. Sure, he drank in the evenings before that, but never to the point of excess. 11, 12, 1 o'clock, though - those were his private hours. Those were the hours that he spent sunken into the couch as the TV flickered with the volume turned down low. Tonight was no exception, and in fact, Sebastian was even deeper into the bottle than normal. There was no particularly good reason for it that he could discern - just that his typical four glasses weren't doing the trick, and instead of feeling numb, he'd only grown more and more depressed with every sip.

By the time he heard the faint sounds of someone rummaging around in the kitchen, he was so drunk that he didn't even try to make sense of what they might be. Whatever it was, whoever it was, whatever they were doing - he just didn't give a singular fuck anymore. If it was someone here to rob and kill him, he wouldn't even put up a fight. He'd just stay right there on the couch and eat that bullet, because he honestly didn't see any reason not to.

"Sebastian, are you drunk?"

Myra's voice sounded closer than it should have. Sebastian licked his lips and turned towards the source, only to find his wife standing not two feet away from him. He had absolutely no idea when she'd stepped into the room with him, nor how long she'd been standing there. Awareness was a fickle, fleeting thing for him right now, as everything blurred and fuzzed around him. He just nodded in response to her question, because the rest of his body was too numb to react otherwise.

She gave him a look that he didn't quite recognize - partially because he couldn't see her face clearly - and leaned down to grab the bottle of whiskey off of the coffee table. It was nearly three-quarters of the way empty by now, and Sebastian couldn't quite remember if he'd drank all of that tonight or if he'd gotten started on it some other day before this. Myra turned the bottle around in her hands, inspecting it like it was some kind of delicate piece of art.

"Jameson, huh?" she asked. "You're drinking this shit straight from the bottle?"

"What'm I gonna do?" he asked her. "Mix it? You can't fuckin' mix Jameson. It'd be an abomination."

"An abomination," she parroted back incredulously.

"In the eyes of God and man," he told her.

She gently placed the bottle of whiskey back down onto the coffee table and wiped her hands on her pants as though she'd just let go of something dirty. "So, does that mean that you and God are back on speaking terms again?"

"There is no god, Myra," he said. "'s just an expression."

He heard her sigh at that, and she sadly shook her head, but past that she seemed to just let it go. It was all well and good by him; faith had become his least favorite topic in recent months. The next person who tried to tell him that God had plan was going to get punched right in the face. He outwardly refused the notion that any sort of just and loving god would include the death of a five-year-old girl as part of his grand master plan. With no further comment on his wife's part, Sebastian retreated back into the warm haze of his own drunkenness, rolling his head to the side to glance at the TV.

"Does it help?" Myra asked after a time. "The whiskey. Does it help you _at all_ , Sebastian?"

"No," he answered honestly. "But'm not lookin' for help."

"So, what are you looking for?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. He looked over at her again, but her expression was still unreadable to him. "I - I wish I felt nothing - so, yeah, I guess maybe it does help after all."

"That's a..." she started. "A really dangerous thing, to want to feel nothing. Even worse to even try for it."

He scoffed at her. "And who the fuck are you to judge me?"

She shook her head again and dropped her gaze, but he wasn't quite in the mood to accept that kind of avoidance and dismissal as an answer. Sebastian leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, feeling the whiskey fuel his frustration. He wasn't typically an angry drunk, and he sure as hell wasn't a violent one (except for that one time in high school when he beat the shit out of some asshole for calling his sister a slut, but that was a special case), but there was just _something_ about this that really cut through the fog and just pissed him off.

"No, no, no," he said, raising his voice. "I want an answer to this. Who the fuck are you, Myra? Who the _fuck_ d'you think you are? You lock yourself in that room, you shut yourself out from the rest of the world, and you have the fucking balls to stand there and give _me_ shit just because I've had a couple of drinks?"

"Forget it," she said. She sounded absolutely disgusted. "I'm sorry I said anything."

She began to turn, probably in an attempt to leave, but there was no way in hell she was getting off that easy. Sebastian was on his feet in record time for his intoxication level, and he gave Myra a look that at least made her pause momentarily.

"No," he said. "I'm not gonna fucking forget it, and _you're_ not gonna walk away from me. 'Cause you know what? I'm all riled up now. I wanna fight."

"Of course you do," she said. "Because you're drunk and sad and pathetic, and that's what you have to resort to. Sit down."

His brain was still in the process of making sense of her verbal assault when she turned on her heels and walked out of the room.

"I'm pathetic?" he asked aloud. He scowled and shook his head before storming out after her. " _I'm_ pathetic?"

She didn't answer him. She just kept her focus dead ahead and continued walking, intent on reaching her goal of the staircase. Sebastian picked up his pace until he was right behind her, and he reached out and caught her by the crook of her elbow. She spun and violently jerked herself away and out of his grip, her blue eyes flashing wildly with rage.

" _Don't fucking touch me!_ "

That stopped him dead in his tracks. A good portion of the fury he'd felt evaporated in an instant, replaced by cautious concern and trepidation. There were a lot of boundaries that he was always willing to push and cross in life, but personal ones set by his wife were never among them. That she threw them down so violently caught him off guard, but the tension didn't dissipate between them.

"Listen to me," she said, her voice low but quaking. "Very. Carefully. Sebastian. I don't care if you're drunk. I don't care that you're my husband. You lay a hand on me one more time tonight, and I will kick your ass. Full. Fucking. Stop. I will _beat_ the _shit_ out of you. So, back up."

There was a deeper implication there, dark and cruel and wicked. It dawned on him slowly, but as the reality of it sank in, he found himself feeling absolutely horrified by the message within her message. Sebastian swallowed hard and took a breath, and whatever remained of his anger fizzled away in favor of disgust and disbelief.

"Why?" he asked, his tone guarded as best he could manage. "Are you... Did you think I would... That I was... Do you really think that I would ever actually _hit_ you?"

"I don't know," she said. "I don't really care. I'm just giving you a fair and friendly warning."

It hurt more than anything else she could have possibly said to him in that moment. While he knew that he'd intentionally picked this fight, the mere suggestion that she honestly thought he was - or could ever be - in the mindset to raise a hand to her, to physically _hurt her_ , made him feel sick to his stomach. He dropped his gaze and stared at his feet, suddenly hating himself.

"Maybe you should," he said finally. "Kick my ass. 's been a long time coming."

"You're right," she said. "It has. But I'm not going to do that. You know, I stuck up for you, Sebastian. When Joseph came to me and suggested that you might have a problem, I stood up for you because I trusted you, and I trusted your judgment."

"So, what?" he said, looking up at her again. "You think I have a problem now, too?"

"You _do_ have a problem, Sebastian," she said, "but I don't know what the hell it is. It's not the whiskey, that's for damn sure. It's _you._

"You know, you have the fucking nerve to come into that office every single night and bitch and whine and cry and moan about me coming to bed, like you're some sad, sullen, downtrodden hero just trying to keep your marriage together. But you've never once stopped and considered the fact that I still cook your meals and clean up after you, because you're too much of a depressed sack of shit to even bother most days. You have your head shoved so far up your own asshole that you only ever notice all the times that I'm _not_ there, and you never see me when I actually _am._ And the _one time_ I come down here and try to reach out to you, you shout at me and chase me around the fucking house like a fucking animal? Am I supposed to feel _sorry_ for you now? Because I _very much_ do not. 

"So, if you want to sit down here every night and drink yourself stupid and kill yourself with booze, go ahead. Go right fucking ahead. You're a grown man, Sebastian. Five years to forty. You do what you want. I don't even care anymore."

Myra disengaged then and headed up the stairs. Sebastian watched her go, mute and despondent, and hating the fact that his kneejerk reaction was to go and have another drink.

\--

**June 21, 2012**

It was just slightly past 4:30 in the morning when Sebastian's work line rang. He didn't even bother lifting his head from the pillow or looking at what he was doing; he simply reached over and groped for it blindly in the dark, answering the call without even looking at who it might be at this godforsaken hour.

"Castellanos," he mumbled. It came off more as a tired grunt than anything else.

"Sorry to wake you at this hour, Detective." It was Inspector Brown's voice on the other end. "Guy out walkin' his dog in Elk River found two more bodies, and it's the exact same MO as our dear old friend the serial killer, looks like. Same spot, same cause of death. I thought you might want to come take a look at the scene before we carted 'em away."

Sebastian flopped over onto his back and rubbed at his eyes. It was too goddamn fucking early for this shit. While he heard the words that came out from the other end of his phone, and his brain understood them well enough to formulate a response, it was hard for him to get a conscious grip on what, exactly, was happening.

"Yeah," he croaked. "Yeah, I'll come down. Have you called Joseph yet?"

"Not yet," the Inspector said. "You were the first name on my list."

"Alright," he said. "Don't worry about it, I'll call him. Keep the scene taped off; we'll be down there as soon as we can."

"You got it."

As he ended the call, he felt movement in the bed beside him. He glanced over and was only mildly surprised to see Myra lying on her stomach and turning her head to look at him, brown hair messy in her face and eyes still half closed. It was becoming a bit of a regular thing, now. She didn't come to bed with him, and he'd stopped asking her to ever since their fight, but he came to find that he at least woke up beside her more and more these days. He shook his head and took a deep breath, feeling slightly more lucid now.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice heavy with sleep.

"More bodies at Elk River," he said. "At 4:30 in the fucking morning. What the fuck are people even doing out at this hour?"

She didn't have an answer. Myra simply sighed tiredly and shook her head against the pillow.

"You wanna come?" he asked.

"No," she said. "No, I don't need to see the bodies in person. Just give me a copy of your report when you're done. And the post-mortems. I'll update my records."

Sebastian nodded numbly and then took a second to gather his strength. It was a struggle to pull himself out of bed. He felt weak from lack of sleep, and even weaker still from the fuzz that still clung to his brain from last night's whiskey. Of _course_ this kind of shit had to happen the one night he'd decided to stay up past one in the morning. That'll teach him to not keep to his schedule, he supposed. He wandered over to the dresser to fish for a clean pair of boxer-briefs, still rubbing at his eyes slightly as he did so.

"Are you okay to drive?" Myra asked from behind him.

He sighed as he hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, suddenly leaving himself standing naked in the middle of the room. There was no fucking way he'd let himself drive if the circumstances were different, seeing as how he refused to drive if he even felt the _slightest_ bit tipsy, but... "I'm gonna have to be."

"No, Sebastian, don't," she said. "I'll come to the scene if you need me to drive. Don't risk it if you're still feeling drunk."

"Don't worry about me," he told her as he stepped into his new pair of boxers. "I'll just ask Joseph to come pick me up on the way. You don't get enough sleep as it is."

She shifted her weight slightly against the mattress, pushing the hair out of her face and accidentally kicking the sheets halfway off of her body. Sebastian couldn't hold himself back from a faint smile. His wife was so unbelievably cute sometimes, even when she wasn't trying to be.

"Okay," she said.

It bothered him how nonchalantly she talked about his drinking, though, especially in the aftermath of their big fight. He couldn't stop thinking about her words that night. _Do what you want. I don't even care anymore._ Now, she made it sound like nothing - the fact that he'd been drinking on a weeknight, on a worknight, and would still be slightly drunk going into the line of duty. Even so much as a _way to go, asshole_ would've made him feel better. Would've made him feel like she actually cared at all.

As he slowly worked his way around the room to get dressed, he chastised himself for that kind of thinking. Of course she cared. She didn't want him driving drunk, so _of course_ she cared. And besides, it wasn't like his drinking was meant to be some sort of attention-seeking behavior in the first place. If anything, Myra's casual reaction was probably a showing of solidarity - just her way of telling him that she understood exactly why he drank, and she wasn't out to judge or reprimand him for being justifiably miserable most nights.

So then why did it make him feel so goddamn empty?

Sebastian left his vest unbuttoned and let his tie hang loosely from his neck for right now, and he walked back over to the bed to tuck his wife back in and give her a kiss goodbye. She pulled him back in for a second one, and then a third before she finally let him go. They did absolutely nothing to fill that void inside of him, but he was ready by now to just chalk that up to his stupid drunk brain being a jerk. There was no logical reason for it otherwise.

Thankfully, Joseph didn't kick up a fuss about picking him up when Sebastian called him, though it did leave him wondering when the hell his drinking had become so commonplace and normalized that both his wife _and_ his partner had come to outright expect it. The thought haunted him all throughout the rest of his morning routine, and it followed him outside as he lit up his first cigarette of the day and waited for his ride. Maybe his drinking really _was_ attention-seeking, on some level. There was a certain kind of satisfaction that came with being self-indulgent about his misery, and to think that it'd just become the norm now made him wonder what the hell the point of it all even was in the first place.

Joseph arrived just as Sebastian finished smoking, and he was grateful for it. He needed to get his mind ready and focused on his work and the day ahead, and Joseph was always the perfect person to help him with that. Sebastian hopped into the passenger's seat and idly thanked him for the ride as he fiddled with his seatbelt, still waiting for the rest of his thoughts to catch up with him.

"I'm happy to do it," Joseph said. "I'd rather go out of my way to pick you up than to have you out driving like this. I'm just glad you had the foresight to ask me for a ride in the first place."

"It was Myra," he said. "She gave me the idea. Damn near drove down there with us herself, just to keep me off the road."

Joseph took a second to absorb that little bit of information, and Sebastian eyed him curiously as he did. He hadn't thought that anything about the statement was particularly damning, or even all that interesting, but something about it seemed to get the gears turning inside of his partner's head. It was one of those rare moments where Sebastian couldn't read Joseph's expression at all, and it was impossible to tell if his silence was one of approval or disapproval.

"I, uh," Joseph said after a moment, "I stopped and got us coffee on the way over here. I thought it might help sober you up a bit."

"Oh, shit," Sebastian breathed out. He nearly jumped to attention in his excitement; he hadn't been able to make a pot for himself this morning, since it was only him awake at that early hour. "Thanks."

True enough, in his lingering grogginess and inebriation, he'd completely missed the fact that there were, in fact, two cups of coffee in the cup holders. He could only hope that that kind of slip-up wouldn't happen once they were actually down at Elk River. He grabbed the cup closest to him and gently pried the lid off before taking a long sip. The caffeine immediately sharpened his senses.

"I feel like I'm back in college," he said over the rim of his cup before taking another sip. "Still drunk and chugging coffee so that I can go look at dead bodies at five in the fucking morning. Of course, I was always a lot drunker than this back then. And high, too, most of the time."

A tiny smile tugged at Joseph's lips, though Sebastian could tell he was trying to fight it back.

"I'm not sure that you could've been a more stereotypical criminal justice major if you tried, Seb," he remarked.

"I'm guessing that wasn't your college experience," Sebastian said, looking over at him.

The grin on Joseph's face widened, and he shook his head. "Not exactly."

Sebastian smirked a bit then, too, and took another sip of his drink. Joseph had fallen into policework on accident. He'd graduated college with a degree in engineering, and from there he went into demolitions, where he got shuffled into the police department, until he eventually had been recruited as a full-time officer, and later, a detective.

"Do you ever miss it?" he asked. "Demolitions? Bomb squad? Shit like that."

"I miss the work itself on occasion," he said, "but I'm grateful to be away from the atmosphere of the job. Most of the guys who go into the field are a bunch of trigger-happy overgrown children who just want to see things blow up, and my tolerance levels for being around large groups of them at a time are pretty non-existent. It's bad enough being partnered with _you_ most days."

Sebastian gave him a flat stare, and Joseph snickered quietly once he noticed the bemused look on his face.

"Dick," Sebastian grumbled into his coffee.

The conversation died after that, and while the silence that took its place wasn't uncomfortable initially, it grew tense before long. It'd been easy enough for Sebastian to divert attention from his drunkenness back when he'd had something else to talk about, but now it was growing more and more impossible to ignore the obvious elephant in the room. He drained the rest of his coffee before putting the empty cup back into the cup holder, and he turned his attention to the world outside his window. He found no answers nor reprieve out there.

"Are you feeling any better?" Joseph asked eventually.

"Yeah," he said. "I should be sober by the time we arrive on scene."

"Good," Joseph said. "I don't mean to beleaguer the point, but I hope this whole thing comes as a wake-up call to you."

He glanced back over at his partner, feeling slightly annoyed. It was funny how he'd wished for Myra to have this exact reaction at him earlier, but now that he was getting it from Joseph, he really didn't want to hear it.

"Are you trying to teach me a lesson, Joseph?" he asked.

"I'm not trying to do anything," he said. "Don't project an agenda onto me. Don't you dare."

"Is that another thing that I owe you?"

Sebastian regretted the words the second they left his mouth. For as much as that heart-to-heart had meant to him, he was shocked to find how quickly and easily he threw the whole thing back in Joseph's face. That hadn't been fair of him, but his ego got in the way of allowing him to apologize. Joseph's grip visibly tightened on the wheel, and Sebastian could see the muscles around his temple flex as he set his jaw in anger. 

"What the hell's the matter with you, Sebastian?" he hissed. "Are you really that opposed to the idea that someone might actually care about you? That they actually want to see you get better and move on with your life?"

He didn't have an answer for that. Sebastian turned his head and directed his attention towards the window again. More and more he was coming to realize that he _was_ opposed to the idea of it, but probably not for the reason that Joseph thought. He hated the notion that this level of concern came from his partner instead of his wife. As the days and weeks and months went by, Sebastian came to realize that he wouldn't be able to move on without Myra standing right beside him. He wouldn't leave her behind, but they could never seem to fall into step together.

Except, there was a tiny part of him that _was_ willing to leave her behind. The part of him that stumbled over itself every time Joseph reached out to him. The part of him that wanted to take the hand he offered and allow him to drag him out of this hole. The part of him that'd felt more at home sitting beside Joseph on his couch, with Hina asleep in his lap, than it did kissing Myra goodbye this morning.

The part of him that just wanted to start over in a whole new life, because he was so damn tired of wasting his feelings on someone who didn't seem to return them anymore.

He hated that part of himself, and Joseph only ever made it worse.

"Well, too bad," Joseph concluded. "Because I'm not going to stop, and I'm not giving up on you. I don't care how long it takes or how far I have to go. If you really want to dig your heels in about this, then so will I."

That was exactly what he'd been afraid of.

The rest of the drive to Elk River was made in silence.

\--

**July 10, 2012**

Six months to the day since the fire, and Sebastian was determined not to sleep alone tonight. There was something about this anniversary that seemed so completely monumental, and he wasn't sure he could make it through on his own. Half of a year. _Half of a fucking year_ had gone by already. It seemed like so much shorter, and yet so much longer than that.

When he stepped into the doorway of his home office to grab the attention of his wife, he wasn't at all prepared for the sight that welcomed him. Myra was hunched over in her chair, leaning forward against her wrists, with her elbows propped up on the desk. It almost looked like she was praying from where Sebastian was standing, and just the thought in and of itself seemed ludicrous to him. Myra was an atheist - had always been an atheist - was descended from a whole family of atheists. He'd gotten so much hell from his own family when they found out what, exactly, he was marrying into. So why now was she...?

"Myra?" he called out in a small, timid voice.

She let out a deep, shuddering exhale and shook her head. Her eyes were closed as she turned her face from him, still leaning against her wrists for support. Sebastian was stupefied. There was something seriously fucked up here - something was _wrong._ He numbly headed inside the room, grabbing the chair from his own desk as he passed it. Without saying a word, he rolled it over towards hers and took a seat, gently brushing some of the hair away from her neck with the backs of his fingers as he settled in beside her.

She didn't move or say anything for a while, and Sebastian didn't ask or try to push her. He just stayed there with her like that, offering gentle caresses to her neck and shoulder to let her know that he was still there, and that he _would_ be there no matter how long she needed him to be. Myra's chest continued to tremble slightly on each exhale, and while Sebastian suspected that she was crying, she refused to look at him and let it show.

As they sat there together like that in silence, and as the seconds turned to minutes, the rift that existed between them became more and more apparent until even Sebastian's expert denial and repression skills couldn't ignore it anymore. It wasn't just the loss of their daughter and their individual grief that kept them at a distance from one another. Their entire relationship had changed; their marriage had become bent and broken, and it was looking less likely that those cracks could be filled and the broken parts fixed.

The realization was so much worse than anything else Sebastian had felt since the day of Lily's funeral. Even though Myra was sitting right there in front of him, he couldn't seem to reach her; he couldn't connect with her in a way that was at all meaningful. He'd lost her somehow - let her slip away right out from under him, when his support for her should've been the strongest it'd ever been. He'd fucked up. _They'd_ fucked up. And there might not be a way back now.

For the first time in his life, the word _divorce_ crept into his mind with real, tangible purpose. Sebastian felt his throat close and his eyes sting with the threat of tears. It wasn't fair. He knew that he still loved her - still wanted to be with her, to hold her, to see her smile and hear her laugh - but he was quickly coming to understand that love just wasn't enough.

"I miss her," Myra said finally, her voice strained and raw from obvious crying. "I miss her... _so much,_ Sebastian. I can't - I can't stand it."

She took another breath, and an uncharacteristic sob escaped from her throat. The sound of it broke his heart.

"It hurts," she went on, " _so much._ Some days I feel like it's just going to swallow me up, like it just..."

She trailed off then, her shoulders shaking as she reached over and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Even still, she refused to face him. Sebastian let out a trembling breath of his own as a few rogue tears betrayed him and escaped the corners of his eyes. He cursed at himself under his breath and knocked them away with the back of his hand, feeling completely awful. Hearing Myra put it into words like that - all of those terrible feelings he'd been trying to drown in whiskey - it was just too much. While he wanted to be strong for her, he hadn't felt this weak in a long time.

"I know," he said simply.

He moved his hand from her shoulder to her back, and he kept it traveling in slow, wide circles. There was nothing more he could say. Words wouldn't bring Lily back, and they wouldn't make the pain just disappear. Myra sniffled a bit and rubbed at her nose.

Then she completely shocked him by turning around in her seat and pulling him in for a hug.

Sebastian blinked in surprise and was slow to react, completely caught off guard by the sudden show of affection. He wondered when the last time it was that he'd held her - really _held_ her. Ultimately, though, he supposed it didn't really matter. She was here now, and she needed him _now._ He pulled her in even closer, wrapping one arm around her and using his other hand to gently cradle her head against his chest. She sighed in obvious relief and contentment, and he took the opportunity to press a lingering kiss to the crown of her head.

"Myra, talk to me," he murmured to her softly. "Please. Please talk to me."

She hesitated, and for a moment, Sebastian thought she wasn't going to say anything at all. Eventually, she took a deep, steadying breath and adjusted her weight slightly, and he felt himself relax along with her.

"Sebastian," she said carefully, "I know things have been tense, but... do you still trust me? In all things in life?"

The question gave him pause, and a wave of dread washed over him. There was no possible good outcome to this.

"I never stopped trusting you," he said.

There was a long moment before she spoke again.

"Sebastian," she said. "I don't think the fire was an accident. I think Lily was murdered."

He immediately felt sick. 

Was this what she'd been working on this whole time? What she was driving herself into the ground over? Was she just spending all of her time looking for a villain - looking for someone to blame - in order to feel vindication? To find justice in something that was just horrible, random chance? He'd known that her habits were unhealthy, but this just made it all seem so much worse.

"Why would you think that?" he asked gently.

"Because I just do," she said.

"That's not good enough," he said. "I'm your husband, Myra, and I trust you, but I'm still a detective, too. So are you. I'm going to need to see a little more proof than that. The arson reports-"

" _Fuck_ the arson reports!" she spat, pulling herself away from him. "And fuck your analytical mind, too! That was always your biggest failing as a detective, Sebastian. You always only ever take things at face value. You never look for the bigger picture."

Well, so much for this being an emotionally-charged, heartfelt moment. Any sorrow that Sebastian might have felt was immediately replaced by annoyance and anger, and he sighed audibly as he shook his head. He probably could have taken any other insult she threw in his direction, but criticizing his work performance was a step too far. Scowling, he braced a hand on the back of his chair and pushed himself to his feet. This conversation was over.

"No, wait, don't go. I'm sorry," Myra pleaded, wiping at her cheeks again and tucking her hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, and I didn't mean it. I was just so ready for you to shoot me down, and when it sounded like you were going to, I just - I panicked. Please don't go, Sebastian."

As sincere as her apology sounded, it barely helped smooth away the sheer amount of insult and offense he took from her outburst. Even if she didn't mean to say it, there was probably at least some hint of truth behind it regardless; those words and that sentiment didn't just come out of nowhere. Still, it was enough to get him to sit back down and hear what she had to say, at least for now.

"What's the bigger picture, then, Myra?" he asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "You tell me."

She blew out a heavy breath as she gathered her thoughts, seemingly relieved beyond comprehension that he'd decided to hear her out. After a brief respite, she licked her lips and looked over at him, suddenly all business.

"Don't you find it a little odd that all of the officers that were neck-deep in this case have either turned up dead or missing?" she asked. "You know that no one's seen or heard from Inspector Brown since two days after those bodies surfaced a few weeks ago? The higher-ups didn't want me classifying him as a missing person, even after his wife reported him missing. I don't know why. But I put him in the database anyway. Then, the next day, his name was gone, like I'd never put him there at all."

He actually hadn't known, as a matter of fact. Sebastian felt his expression soften as the news sank in, and his brain was already working in a thousand different directions in an attempt to conjure up some kind of an explanation. Every single one that he came up with sounded crazy - as crazy as the idea of a little girl being murdered in her home. He looked over at his wife cautiously, and she seemed to relax a bit once she noticed the bewildered look on his face.

"What does this have to do with Lily?" he asked.

"What if that fire wasn't meant for her?" she said. "What if it was meant for us?"

The mere suggestion of it made his blood run cold.

"Someone could have looked in the window and seen Juanita and thought that it was me," she said. "She looked really young for her age, and if someone didn't know what I specifically looked like, it's not a far-reaching jump to make. I mean, _we_ know that I'm white as the day is long, but suppose that you didn't know any better. You have to make a hit, and you glance in a window and see a Hispanic woman, and you know that your target's name is _Castellanos_... Even if it _is_ just my married name, it's not an unreasonable assumption."

"But if it was some kind of a hit man, then why fudge the arson reports?" he asked.

"Why cover up the Inspector's disappearance?" she returned.

Sebastian settled back in his chair and took a second to catch his breath. He hadn't had a drop to drink tonight, but he felt like his head was spinning, and nothing in the world made sense anymore. There were only two possible explanations for this: either Myra had grown extremely paranoid and was losing her mind, or she was completely right, and someone had murdered their little girl trying to get to them. When he thought about it, he honestly wasn't sure which was worse.

"Myra," he said slowly, leaning forward again, "what you're suggesting is police corruption on a _massive_ scale. You _do_ realize that."

"I do," she said. "Why do you think I kept it from you? Why I was so quick to jump at your response as being a dismissal? You bleed blue, Sebastian. You'd defend the force with your dying breath."

"I..." he stumbled, desperately searching for words. She was right. "I'm having a hard time with this. It's not that I don't trust you..."

"I knew you would," she said. "I know you want to see some hard evidence, and I don't blame you. But it's so hard. I have to be so careful all the time..."

"Let me help you," he said. "If this is real - if there's really something to this, I want to be in on it."

"No," she said. "It's hard enough to cloak what I'm doing just on my own. Two people doing it? No chance in hell. You just need to keep trusting me."

"I can't just stand by and do nothing," he told her. "She's my daughter, too."

"I know, Sebastian," she said. "I know. But right now the best thing you can do is just be here, okay? And keep your head above water, just a little while longer."

Easier said than done. Sebastian sat back in his chair again, lost in thought. He owed it to Myra to believe her, to trust her instincts. Even if she'd taken a dig at him and pissed him off just moments ago, the truth of the matter was that she _was_ a better detective than him. She always had been. But the reality of it was overwhelming - and alluring, and that was actually what frightened him most of all. To think that he had a target now, a goal, a head to put on a fucking spike - he couldn't think of a better way to gain closure and move on.

"Are you going to be okay?" Myra asked after a moment.

"No," he answered honestly. His hands were shaking, but his voice was calm. "No, I'm not. But I'm okay with not being okay, for the first time in a long time."

She gave him a puzzled look then, but she didn't press the issue. It was just as well; Sebastian wasn't sure he'd be able to explain even if he wanted to. In all his years on the force, he'd never once taken the life of another human being - not even the scumbag that'd shot Myra all those long years ago. But right now, right here, sitting in this chair, he truly understood what it was like to _want_ to. It was a strange feeling - a calm rationality blanketing a pit of simmering rage and honest hate - but Sebastian swore to himself in that moment that he would kill every single person involved in this, if it turned out to be true.

No arrests. No trial. Just his hands around their necks.

He looked over at his wife, who had the expression on her face like she was staring at a stranger when she looked back at him. And maybe she was. Everything was different now; everything had changed. Their lives, their marriage, and even themselves.

Sebastian ended up going to bed alone after all, but this time, he couldn't bring himself to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to all of the people who left such amazingly kind words on chapters one and two. I might not be responding to you all individually, but I really feel like I need to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I've never known such kindness about my writing, and I certainly wasn't expecting it. So, thank you.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is more than welcome. Thank you so much for reading, guys.


	4. July, pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. So, it turned out that splitting the Summer chapter up into two still wasn't enough, and I was forced to split it into three. Now it's just the second half of July for chapter 4. August is chapter 5. Sorry about that, guys. It was a very eventful couple of months.

**July 18, 2012**

It would've been Lily's sixth birthday today.

No, scratch that. It _was_ Lily's sixth birthday today. All other things aside, it was still six years to the day that Sebastian's daughter was born. There was nothing in the world to compare to the feeling of seeing life brought into the world, knowing that it was something he created. He had a flashbulb memory of the first time he saw Lily, pink-faced and screaming as the nurse carried her away to get cleaned up. It'd taken him so long for the reality of it to sink in - he had a daughter. He was a father. It hit him all at once when he finally held her in his arms for the first time, and the first time she smiled at him, tears stung at his eyes.

He'd stayed home today; it was the only day so far that Sebastian let his personal life take precedence over his job, but no one had questioned or judged him for it. He'd bought Lily flowers and spent some time at her grave earlier in the afternoon, but he couldn't bring himself to linger for very long. Just the sight of that headstone was too much for him to bear. It left him at a loss for what to do with the rest of the day, but he'd actually managed to catch up on his sleep a bit - though he couldn't tell if it was because he was actually tired or if he was just that depressed.

7:30 rolled around, and now he was up and alone with only a bottle of Jameson to keep him company. Myra was out of town and had been for the last few days. Her mother's health had taken a turn for the worse, suffering from stage 4 breast cancer, and so she'd all but dropped everything to go care for her. She and Sebastian had ended up getting into a screaming match about it before she left; she would not, under any circumstances, allow him to accompany her. He hadn't understood why then, and he still didn't understand why now. She gave some half-baked excuse about the both of them taking so much time off of work, and while normally he would've been inclined to agree, he couldn't help but feel like this was a really bad time for the two of them to be apart. They couldn't handle another tragic loss in their lives - not on their own. Not like this. Besides, he was plenty worried about his mother-in-law all on his own. Myra's mother was an amazing woman who loved her family - and, the last time he checked, Sebastian was still a part of it.

He could've forgiven all of this, though, if Myra would've only just answered her goddamn phone. It was their daughter's birthday, and she wouldn't even speak to him. It felt like such a slap in the face a week after she'd opened up to him about the accident, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt like hell. The big "D" word loomed over him again, and it was a godawful chaser for the whiskey.

He was well into his third glass when he heard the front door open. 

Sebastian was toeing the line between tipsy and drunk, which still left him lucid enough to react with damn near immediacy. Leaning forward, he put his drink down on the coffee table and then rose to his feet to peek around the corner. It wasn't his wife that'd stepped through the door. Joseph was still kicking off his shoes by the time Sebastian caught sight of him, dressed down after work in khakis and a white polo shirt, holding what appeared to be a bag of Chinese take-out in his hand.

"Joseph?" he asked, stepping out into the hall.

"Hey," his partner said. He offered him a weak smile as he left his shoes at the door and headed further inside. "I hope this is alright. I thought maybe you could use a friend tonight, and I was sure you hadn't eaten, so I took the liberty of picking something up for us."

Sebastian's heart swelled as the words touched at some place sentimental. Joseph didn't need to do this - not by any stretch of the imagination - and it almost defied logic that he would even try. Sebastian had been so moody and reclusive lately that it was mind-boggling that Joseph even thought to take this extra step, knowing that the outcome was probably going to be less than favorable. Still, it meant the world to him; Sebastian had been utterly convinced that he'd be spending the whole night alone. He nodded at him in mute affirmation and stepped aside to allow Joseph to pass.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, thanks. Just put it on the kitchen table for now. I want to finish my drink first, and then I'll switch to water and we'll eat."

Joseph paused then and gave Sebastian a bit of an incredulous stare. He clearly hadn't expected him to announce that he was going to stop drinking at any point in the night, and honestly, Sebastian couldn't blame him for that. If Joseph hadn't shown up, he _would have_ been drinking all night, but it just felt downright pathetic to try to drown his sorrows while someone else was actually watching him, and his ego wouldn't stand for that. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't realize that that just wasn't a thing that normal, healthy people did. Still, Joseph did as he was asked, and Sebastian wandered back over to the couch, plopping down and reclaiming his drink. There was only about a quarter of the glass left; he'd drain it in no time.

"How much have you had so far?" Joseph asked.

"Not nearly enough," Sebastian lamented before taking a sip.

His partner had no response for that. He simply dropped the food off at the table before joining Sebastian on the couch. If he disapproved of this little indulgence of vice tonight, he didn't voice it, and Sebastian was surprised to find that he didn't even sense any scorn or frustration coming off of him, either. He just seemed to wait patiently as Sebastian worked at finishing his drink. For some reason, it made him feel downright awful. He would've rather Joseph lectured him, but silence reigned supreme for now.

Funny how it was the exact same reaction he'd had when Myra didn't yell at him for his drinking, either. He didn't drink for attention - he was _sure_ he didn't - but was it too much to ask for maybe a little show of concern? After being stonewalled by Myra and now left unchallenged by Joseph, Sebastian was at a complete loss, almost as though he'd been abandoned. He couldn't stand it. While it wasn't like him to wear his heart on his sleeve, he felt like he had to say _something._

"I really needed her here tonight," he said softly.

"You can hardly fault her for that, Seb," Joseph said.

"The hell I can't," he said. "She won't even answer her fucking phone."

He let out an annoyed sigh then, rubbing at his forehead in frustration.

"I don't claim to speak for her," Joseph said, "but I'm sure she's hurting, too. Have you tried talking to her about it? When she _is_ available to talk, I mean."

"I can't talk to her," he said.

"Why not?" he asked. "She's still your wife, isn't she?"

"For how much longer, I wonder." 

Sebastian let out another sigh, and he followed it up with another sip of his drink. Joseph sat there in a bit of a stunned silence, seemingly at a loss for words. It was a strange shade to see him colored with.

"You..." Joseph started. "You really don't think that you two are going to make it?"

"I don't know," he said. "Everything's all fucked up."

The conversation died after that. For as logical and wise as Joseph always was, he didn't seem to have any advice for him tonight. It made sense, Sebastian supposed. Joseph had never been married, never had a kid - much less lost one - and, hell, he had barely even gone out on more than a handful of dates in all the time Sebastian had known him. Joseph never did things halfway, and he wasn't one to settle, but if he was holding out for someone special, Sebastian had no idea where the hell he intended to find them. 

All the same, it left it up to him to keep the conversation going, because for once, he couldn't stand to leave Joseph sitting silent in the dark. It left too many questions hanging in the air, and Sebastian wanted to make sure he addressed them on his own terms, instead of giving Joseph the opportunity to blindside him.

"I never told you this," he said, "but we were planning on having another kid."

Joseph blinked in surprise and looked over at him. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, Lily was going to start going to school full-time in September. First grade. So, we thought... what the hell. I was going to take paternity leave, and Myra was going to be the one who went back to work this time. At least til we decided to start falling back on the nanny again. What a hell of a thing that would've been, though, right? Me as a stay-at-home dad. Could you fucking imagine?"

"Yeah, actually," Joseph said. "I could. I think it would've been great."

"Yeah," he breathed. The awful yet familiar yawning chasm of _would-haves_ and _could-haves_ opened up in the dead center of his chest. It was the fucking worst. "Myra had an appointment to get her IUD removed and everything. At the end of this month, actually. So much for that shit. Not that we even fucking... fuck anymore, anyway."

"I honestly don't know what to say," Joseph said.

"You don't have to say anything at all," he told him. "Just being here helps. It feels good to get it out."

"You really don't know how much it means for me to hear you say that, Sebastian."

Something about Joseph's tone startled him. He was just sober enough to be attentive to these things, but still drunk enough to not have expected them. There was just something so earnest and heartfelt behind Joseph's words. It'd occurred to Sebastian a few times that he'd been particularly and needlessly cruel to his best friend over these past few months, but he honestly hadn't thought it was _that_ bad.

Maybe that was just his fucked up lack of perspective again. It was so damn hard for him to get a good gauge on his own moods anymore, or how much or how little he interacted with people outside of a work setting. Now that it was staring him in the face, he felt awful. The last thing he'd ever wanted to do was hurt Joseph. That was why he'd cut him out in the first place; he didn't want to drag him down into his misery. In the end, Joseph had hitched himself on for the ride anyway, no matter what Sebastian did or said.

He polished off the rest of his drink and then climbed to his feet, making good on his promise to ditch the whiskey and switch to water. He headed into the kitchen and rinsed his glass in the sink briefly before refilling it straight from the tap, and then raised it to his lips for a sip. From behind him, Joseph got up from his place on the couch and wandered into the kitchen, too, though he hovered around the table for the time being.

"I have to admit," Joseph said, "I didn't actually expect you to stop drinking tonight. Not that I'm complaining..."

"Believe me, I don't want to," Sebastian returned bitterly.

"I believe you," his partner replied.

"I don't mean to be a pain in the ass about it," he said, "and I don't drink to spite you."

"I never thought you did."

"It's just," he said, struggling with the words. "The pain is unbearable. I can't even describe it. Sometimes I feel like, if I didn't drink, I'd just..."

Joseph took a few steps forward and slowly crossed the room, until he finally stood side-by-side with him at the sink. Sebastian didn't look at him; he didn't have the strength to. Instead, he simply took another long sip from his water and tried to bury any feelings that dared to bubble up to the surface. All of the terrible things that he couldn't put words to swam around in his head, and even though he couldn't see the expression on Joseph's face, he was sure that all of those same feelings would be mirrored back at him if he turned to look.

"You'd just..." his partner said, completely unable to mask the worry in his voice. "You'd just, what, Sebastian?"

He placed his glass down on the counter top and shook his head. "I don't know."

"You wouldn't..." Joseph forced, "Ever consider... hurting yourself, would you?"

"No," he said. "I don't know what I'd do, but I don't think I'd do that."

"Sebastian, sometimes I..." Joseph said. He took a deep breath before continuing, though it didn't seem to do a thing to settle his nerves. "Nothing scares me more in this world than the thought of... Of you killing yourself. Sometimes it's all I can think about, and it terrifies me. I have nightmares about it."

The admission should have been shocking. It wasn't.

He had no words for him - no deflection nor reassurance nor source of comfort. It felt almost shameful, being unable to conjure a simple promise not to hurt himself, but Sebastian was downright spooked by the fact that Joseph considered this to be a very real possibility - if only because it was _Joseph_ who'd said it. His partner knew him better than anyone - better than even Myra did, these days. And considering how completely out of touch he was with himself on a fairly regular basis, Sebastian realized that Joseph probably knew him better than he even knew himself. If Joseph really felt so strongly about this, there had to be a reason. Jesus Christ, was he really that far gone?

Seconds passed in silence. When it became clear that Sebastian had no rebuttal, Joseph placed a hand on his shoulder that was probably meant to be comforting, but it just felt like a bit of added weight on top of an already heavy burden.

"Seb..." His partner nearly choked on his words. "Seb, look at me."

He did, and he immediately regretted it. There was a sense of mild panic behind Joseph's eyes. His brow was creased and wrinkled with worry, and his lips parted slightly with words unspoken. Sebastian hated it - hated that expression on his face, hated having Joseph look at him like that. This wasn't right - the picture didn't make sense in his head. Everything about it was fucked up; everything was _wrong._ He wanted to wipe that worry off of his face - replace it with something better, because Joseph wasn't supposed to look at him like that, because things weren't ever supposed to have gotten this bad.

It was only then that Sebastian realized that it wasn't Joseph who was panicking - it was him.

He needed him to understand - needed _himself_ to understand - that it wasn't over, and he wasn't down for the count just yet. But he didn't know how. Time hung between them, tense and charged and dangerous, and it was all he could do to just keep breathing. His eyes flickered down towards Joseph's lips again, and he came to the sudden and stark realization that he didn't want to hear a single goddamn thing that came out of them right now.

So he covered them with his own.

Joseph kissed him back immediately, and with such enthusiasm that Sebastian's breath hitched in both surprise and excitement. The simple press of his lips carried so many emotions with it, but the overwhelming sense of desperation and concern won out over all of them. It was almost surreal. _This_ was the kind of raw emotion and intimate reverence that Sebastian had been longing for all this time. He felt it light a spark inside of him -

\- but Joseph pulled away before that spark ignited a flame, breaking the kiss by only an inch.

"Sebastian, you're drunk," he whispered breathlessly.

The abrupt way in which everything stopped made Sebastian's head spin, and it took him a second to actually process what'd just happened. Blinking his eyes open, he studied Joseph's face - or at least, as much of it as he could, with how close they still were to one another. Joseph had his eyes turned downcast towards Sebastian's neck and collarbone, and his breathing had become shallow and terse. Even at this close, limited range, the guilt he bore just for that one simple kiss was clear as day. 

Sebastian could feel the impending rejection looming over him. That mild sense of alarm gripped at him again, constricting his chest and touching at the back of his eyes. This couldn't be happening. Not now, not like this - not from Joseph.

"You're goddamn right I am."

He leaned in again for another kiss, but Joseph turned his face at the last second.

"- and married," he protested. "It's not right."

And yet, in spite of his objections, Joseph made no effort to disengage and walk away. Sebastian wasn't sure what to make of that one little detail, but it did give him the tiniest bit of confidence to do what he did best: push his luck. He placed his hands on Joseph's hips and took a half-step forward, pulling him in even closer. Once again, his partner made no effort to stop him or move away. 

As a matter of fact, he reciprocated in kind, placing his free hand on Sebastian's other shoulder and giving both of them a gentle squeeze. It was a minor thing, but it also provided just a little bit of hope for salvaging this situation. Sebastian had enough heartache and loneliness over the past half-year to last him the rest of his life; he wasn't ready to get even more dumped on him from the one person he still actually felt close to in this world. 

_Please, Joseph,_ he pleaded silently within his head. _Please don't turn me away._

"I don't know what right is anymore, Joseph," he admitted, his voice sounding pathetic to his own ears.

"It isn't this," his partner said. "I know you're hurting, Sebastian, but this isn't the way."

Joseph's hands moved from Sebastian's shoulders to the sides of his neck as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against his. The closeness that it provided was intoxicating - far more than any sip of whiskey could have been - and Sebastian took a moment to drink it in. It almost didn't seem fair, to be this close to Joseph, to be held like this, and to be unable to take it forward.

"I want to help you," he continued softly. "Believe me... I've never wanted anything more in my life. But I don't know how. Tell me how, Seb. Please. Tell me what I can do."

Sebastian closed his eyes and shook his head the slightest bit, never once pulling his forehead away from Joseph's. There were no answers, and he wouldn't try to pretend that there were. Joseph couldn't turn back time and prevent Lily's death. He couldn't single-handedly fix Sebastian's marriage - and even if he could, Sebastian wasn't sure he would even want him to at this point. His feelings on the matter were all mixed up and wrong, and there was just no denying the amount of honest affection and warmth he felt towards Joseph these days. Maybe _that_ might have been something that Joseph could help with - Sebastian could ask him to do something to make him really, truly resent him. But, then, that wasn't really helping, was it?

"I can't bring her back, Seb," Joseph concluded. 

It was unclear whether Joseph meant Myra or Lily, but it didn't really matter. Sebastian cracked his eyes open again and traced his gaze along the lines of Joseph's lips, as best as he could see them. Logically, in his head, he knew that what he was after right now was a bad idea. He was looking for temporary relief - just a few minutes or hours of comfort after days and weeks and months of absolute misery - but wasn't he entitled to that? He reached up and gently brushed the backs of his fingers across Joseph's cheek and jaw, and Joseph let out a sharp exhale as though the sensation of it hurt him physically.

"Joseph," Sebastian said, his tone soft. "The only thing I want right now is you."

Joseph's breath stuttered on his next exhale, and his voice sounded weak and wavering when he spoke.

"You don't mean that."

Except, he very much _did_ mean that, and he didn't know how to convey it. They stood there like that for a time, the both of them simply breathing each other's air, with Sebastian continuing to trail gentle caresses along Joseph's jawline. Seconds dragged on for what felt like years, and the magnetic pull between them grew stronger with each passing day. Their lips brushed together again - featherweight and fleeting - barely just a peck. But that peck opened the door to another full-fledged kiss, firm and tender and secure. Then a third, but this time with parted lips and seeking tongues. Joseph's mouth was as warm and welcoming as his touch had been, and there was only comfort and longing to be found behind his kiss. Sebastian was already in the process of losing himself in it, because it was just so damn easy to; nothing in his life for the past six months had felt this right.

But before they could even build up a rhythm together, Joseph pulled away again, breaking it off completely.

"Fuck," he whispered with a shake of his head.

Sebastian froze in place as Joseph slipped out of his arms and stepped away from him. He was stunned, and his head was spinning with denial over what'd just happened. The kiss, the break, the _everything_. Joseph rarely ever swore; it took a special kind of emotional distress to get him to that point. To see him now, with his back turned towards him as he pulled the glasses off of his face and shook his head again, was one of the worst images in the world. He looked like a man broken, wracked with guilt, regret, and some other emotion that Sebastian couldn't quite identify. It broke his heart just to see. Joseph leaned against the kitchen table with one hand and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his other wrist.

"We can't do this," he said. His voice was weak and uneven. "I won't _let_ you do this, Sebastian."

That was it, then. The definitive end of everything. Sebastian stood there mutely, watching Joseph struggle to regain his composure. For his own part, he just felt raw. Empty. It was as though, when Joseph pulled away from him, he took a large piece of him with him. It wasn't a clean break, and those rough, jagged edges hurt more than he could even put into words.

Worst of all, he had no idea where to go from here. This was his own fault, and he knew it. It'd been a bad decision, spurned on by the booze and Sebastian's own natural impulsivity, and now there was no taking it back. The more he thought about it, the worse it made him feel. _He_ was the one with the problem here; _he_ was the one harboring these inappropriate feelings for Joseph - not the other way around. To think that Joseph would've wanted this to happen either way was just Sebastian deluding himself - just him misreading friendly concern as deep affection.

It was, wasn't it? Christ.

He had nothing to say for himself, and he couldn't very well just throw Joseph out of the house, so Sebastian did the only other thing he could think of: he stepped past him and headed out the front door himself, reaching for his cigarettes along the way. 

The summer sun still hadn't fully set yet, leaving him with a nice twilight background in which to have a smoke. Sebastian sat down on the top step of his front porch and lit up, trying to take some comfort in the sudden rush of nicotine through his veins and the calming feeling of the warm summer's breeze against his skin.

Between the emotional turmoil, the cigarette smoke, and the fresh air, he was starting to feel far more sober than he'd expected to. The edges of his vision were still slightly fuzzy, and there was a small tingling that lingered in the tips of his fingers, but that was really it. Too drunk to drive, but sober enough to know better than to make any more stupid fucking mistakes.

Before long, the front door opened again behind him, and Sebastian was fully ready to watch Joseph get in his car and head home. It wouldn't be so bad, he figured. It'd hurt like hell at first, but then he could just go inside, have another drink or two, wander into the shower, jerk off, and go to bed. Then he'd be up and back at work, and everything would go back to normal again, because that was how things always seemed to work out between them.

Except that didn't happen. Instead of walking past him and out to his car, Joseph took a seat on the top step of the porch, right beside Sebastian. He didn't say a word; he simply rested his forearms against his knees and watched the streetlights flicker on. The sense of solidarity between them was just as strong as it'd ever been.

"I'm surprised you decided to stay," Sebastian said.

"We've been friends for how many years?" Joseph asked. "It's going to take a lot more than that to scare me away."

Sebastian nodded once and lightly ashed his cigarette before taking another long drag. He quietly settled into a more comfortable sitting position as he exhaled, leaning back against one hand. The familiar friendly silence that was always so common between them slipped into the scene, and they sat there like that until well after Sebastian's cigarette was finished. It was only once the world was mostly dark around them that he realized that he'd just sat on his front step and watched the sunset with Joseph, as obscured as it was behind the Krimson City skyline. What a strangely romantic follow-up to the fucking travesty that'd just happened inside.

"That food's probably ice cold by now, huh?" he said finally, breaking the silence.

"That's alright," Joseph said. "That's kind of the thing about Chinese take-out. I almost feel like they make it with the specific intention for it to be microwaved later."

That got a smile out of him, which, in turn, caused Joseph to smile back. It came as such a damn relief to see it. With nothing more to say on the topic, Joseph rose to his feet and offered a hand down to Sebastian, who took it without hesitation. For as small and lithe as his partner was, he was a man made out of iron - deceptively strong and sturdy, no matter what the situation. Sebastian felt no qualms about leaning nearly his full weight onto Joseph's arm as he used it as an anchor to climb to his feet, and Joseph gave him a light pat on the back with his free hand once he was up.

They headed back inside together, and Sebastian made the executive decision to leave all of his personal drama and bullshit behind on that porch. At least, just for the rest of tonight.

\--

**July 23, 2012**

When Joseph excused himself to go to the bathroom, Sebastian acted on a detective's hunch and waited a full minute before leaving their office and making his way towards Myra's. It was her first day back at work after having taken the week off to care for her mother, who was thankfully doing much better now. It was also Joseph's first and best opportunity to tattle on Sebastian for his five seconds of infidelity while she was away. He wasn't quite sure why he expected or suspected that from him, considering they'd just slipped right back into their normal rapport and routine after the incident, but he just couldn't shake the feeling.

Surely enough, as he came up on Myra's door, he heard his partner's voice:

"For god's sake, Myra, I'm trying to save his _life!_ Don't you care at all?"

Sebastian steeled his nerves and hovered just to the side of the door, still in earshot but out of immediate view. He'd certainly come upon an interesting moment in this conversation, and it didn't seem to be about the kiss at all. Was Joseph still really so afraid that Sebastian might kill himself? 

Silence fell between Myra and Joseph, and it remained for far too long. Sebastian shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, feeling anxious.

"Joseph," Myra said after a time, "I do care. Okay? Sebastian's life is the most important thing in the world to me."

"So then help me," Joseph said. "Help me help him."

"I can't," she said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I just can't."

"That isn't a good answer."

"Now _you're_ the one who sounds like him," Myra said somewhat incredulously. "You two are quite the pair, aren't you? You always were. You won't stop until you get to the bottom of everything, even if you end up poking your nose in places that no one wants you to."

"I'd argue that that comes with the territory of our job," Joseph said.

"But we're not talking about the job," she said. "We're talking about Sebastian. Sebastian as a _person_. You asked me why I can't help? It's because I can't reach him anymore, Joseph. There's a wall between us now that I can't break through."

"He loves you, Myra," he said. "And you're the stronger one of the two of you. You can't even try to deny it."

"And still I'm telling you that _I can't_ be there," she pressed. "He's safest in your hands, Joseph. I know that you'll take care of him. No matter what happens, you'll be there for him. That's why I..."

"Why are you talking like this?" Joseph asked, suddenly sounding extremely concerned. "You make it sound like you won't be around much longer - like you're about to leave, or that you're dying."

"I need to get back to work," she said. "Whatever you decide to do, Joseph, you have my support. I just... I can't help you. That's just the way it is."

Knowing Joseph the way he did, Sebastian was sure that he was going to push Myra a little further for a little while longer. Knowing Myra, he was also sure that this was the definitive end of the conversation, no matter what else Joseph tried to pull out on her. Sebastian had heard enough, anyway. He stepped away from the door and headed back to his own office, trying to sort through all of his thoughts and feelings. It'd certainly been a revealing conversation.

By the time Joseph returned from his confrontation with Myra, Sebastian still hadn't been able to parse through how he felt about everything. He'd actually begun to wonder if it was _Myra_ that needed to be put on suicide watch - but he ultimately wrote that idea off as ridiculous. She had the same reasons to keep going that he did.

Was that why her reaction had been so odd, then? Because of the investigation? She couldn't help him - or, rather, _wouldn't_ help him - because of what she was doing off on the sidelines? But, that didn't make any sense, because she'd already cued him into what she was doing.

Not that Sebastian actually needed help, regardless. He certainly didn't.

Or was it that she really was going to hit him with divorce papers, after all?

"I've been thinking," Joseph said as he took his seat. "There's been something about the Rivera case that's been bothering me, but I think I may have figured out what it is."

So, Joseph was going to play dumb and pretend like his conversation had never happened with Myra at all. Sebastian sat back in his chair and kept his expression blank as he looked at him. That was fine; he could play that game, too.

\--

**July 30, 2012**

For once, Sebastian couldn't wait to get out of his office and head home. The air conditioning had broken in the entire wing of the building where his office was located, and the sweltering heat of late July was absolutely brutal. He and Joseph had spent a good forty minutes today just trying to determine if having the windows open made things better or just made them worse. They still hadn't come to a consensus.

"Seb, before we go, there's something I need to talk to you about," Joseph said as Sebastian was in the process of locking up the last of his files.

Sebastian finished closing the lock on the filing cabinet, and he pocketed the key before turning in his partner's direction. "I'm listening."

Joseph didn't say anything at first. He took a deep breath, but it didn't seem to help him get the words out, so he took another one. Sebastian waited with growing impatience as he watched his partner struggle with his thoughts, a thousand different doomsday scenarios running through his head. All of them went back to Myra - except for the few that went back to that ill-advised kiss a few weeks ago. Eventually, Joseph found his strength.

"Sebastian, I," he said, still obviously struggling. "I think it's only fair of me to warn you. This is already done and over with, and I can't take it back now, but... Seb, I need you to know that I filed a report with Internal Affairs last week. About you. And your drinking. They should be calling you in for an interview tomorrow."

Sebastian's heart stopped beating, and his blood ran cold. 

Of all the things he'd expected Joseph to say, this hadn't even made the list. It was so jarring and so unexpected that it left him stunned and speechless, and he honestly didn't know how long he ended up standing there, completely frozen in time.

The words came to him eventually.

"What the _fuck,_ " he spat, his voice raised.

"I didn't know what else to do," Joseph said, "and I couldn't just keep doing nothing. I can't stand it, Sebastian. I can't stand constantly worrying about you, wondering if tonight's going to be the night I get the call that you got too drunk and ended up in jail, or that you drove your car off the road, or you finally decided to end it all and put your gun in your mouth, or even that you just poisoned yourself with alcohol and didn't make it. I don't sleep anymore. It's like I can't function. And I couldn't get you to listen, no matter what I said or did."

"That's _your fucking problem,_ Joseph," Sebastian shouted, taking a step forward. His hands were shaking in his anger, and it took every ounce of willpower he had to not take a swing at him.

"It's _your_ problem, Sebastian!" Joseph shouted back, not once flinching or cowering away. "I'm standing here telling you that it's your _life_ at stake, and you have the nerve to try to fault my anxiety over it instead? Are you really that far gone that you have absolutely _no_ perspective on this situation at all? That you can't see the way you're ruining your life and your marriage? That you can't see that what you're doing is affecting _other people's_ lives?"

His marriage. Of course it came back to that. Sebastian came to the mute realization that he'd probably walked away from Myra's door a bit too early last week. He should have confronted the both of them about this - he should've gotten a better handle on it while he'd had the chance. Now it was too late.

Sebastian covered his mouth with his hand as he took a sharp breath in and out through his nose, trying to calm the torrent of rage he felt. It barely worked.

"Did Myra put you up to this?" he asked.

"Myra?" Joseph scoffed. "No, Sebastian, she didn't. I _begged_ her to help me find another way. I all but got on my knees and _begged her_ to help me get through to you. But she's worse than you are. You two deserve each other."

"Maybe because she lives with me," Sebastian hissed, "and knows that it's _not a fucking problem._ "

"She knows it's a problem, Seb," Joseph said. "She just didn't seem to care. But someone here has to, and if the two of you won't, then it has to be me."

Sebastian sighed and turned away from him. Well, he'd sure gotten what he wanted. Joseph had finally stepped so far out of line that Sebastian felt honest resentment towards him. He was beyond pissed off, but that wasn't even the worst of it. The betrayal was what hurt the most. It was one thing to go over his head to talk to Myra, but it was another thing completely to go running to IA. Was nothing sacred between them?

He'd honestly thought they'd made good progress that night. After the dust settled and they went back inside the house, things started to feel normal between them again. They sat at the table and ate and bullshit back and forth for hours, like nothing had ever happened. That was the way it was _supposed_ to be.

Was all of that a lie? Every minute, every hour - every stupid joke and every piece dark humored sarcasm that Joseph threw his way? Was it all an act?

Sebastian turned back towards him, hoping that the expression on his face didn't reveal just how hurt he really was.

"I just don't get it, Joseph," he said, his voice much calmer now. "Is this because I kissed you?"

"I think that's a very naive way of looking at the situation, Sebastian," Joseph said, "though I'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of the reason."

"That's fucking great," Sebastian griped, feeling his anger flare back up. "Because, you know, you sure were quick to kiss me back, yourself. If I hadn't been drunk, you would've let me fuck you right there on the kitchen table."

"You're right, I probably would have," Joseph admitted. "Or, at the very least, I would've given it serious consideration, and knowing that I would've is what scared me the most. Don't you see how sick that is? That _that's_ the point we've reached? You're a married man, Sebastian - and a straight one, at that. Your drinking is what got you there in the first place."

"Let's be clear," Sebastian said. "I'm a lot of things, Joseph, but straight has never been one of them. Alcohol is an excuse, not a reason."

That seemed to completely take the wind out of Joseph's sails, and he stood there for a bit, looking like reality had just punched him right in the jaw. At first, Sebastian was confused by his confusion. This shouldn't have even been a question between them. Sebastian couldn't recall ever actively keeping his sexuality a secret from him, and on some level, he'd just assumed that Joseph had always known. Apparently not. He supposed it made sense now that he thought about it, seeing as how he and Myra had already been engaged by the time they'd been assigned as partners, so the topic never had any reason to be brought up.

That really wasn't what was important right now, but Sebastian was just so damn sick of all the assumptions being made about him these days. He felt obligated to set the record straight on _something_ , even something as inconsequential as this. Joseph shook his head nervously as he recovered from the revelation and pulled himself back on track.

"Even still," he said, "do you really think that makes it okay? Cheating on your wife - or, wanting to, at least?"

"I never said it was okay," Sebastian told him. "Just that you couldn't blame the liquor for that. And now, because you did, look at where we are."

"What else was I supposed to do, Sebastian?" Joseph asked, sounding helpless. "Do you think I wanted to do this? I couldn't snap you out of it. I couldn't get your wife to snap you out of it. And I couldn't just watch you drink yourself to death. So, tell me. _Please_ tell me. What was I supposed to do?"

"Nothing," Sebastian said. "I didn't ask for your help."

Joseph blew out a heavy breath through his nose, and Sebastian noticed him clench his jaw in response to the offense he took from that statement. Everything inside of his partner that had just been pleading and pitiful seemed to be replaced by honest insult and anger. He closed his hands into fists at his sides, and while Sebastian knew that Joseph would never actually raise a hand to him, he kept close watch on his body language just in case.

"Is that what you would've done?" he asked, his tone and expression turning to ice. "If our roles were reversed, would you have just done _nothing?_ "

"I wouldn't have put your job on the line," he said. "I would've found another way. I would've staged an intervention - or hell, even called your mother - before I filed a report with Internal Affairs."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure that would've gone over well," Joseph said, his tone somewhere between incredulous and sarcastic. "I'll stage an intervention with your wife who doesn't care and all of the friends you don't speak to anymore. I could've invited your sister, too, even. Or, you know what, maybe I _should have_ called your mother, so that she can call you all the way from her home in Florida, only to have you not pick up the phone for her, either."

"Don't patronize me, Joseph."

Joseph took a breath and pulled his glasses off of his face to clean the lenses. It was a bit of a nervous habit he seemed to have sometimes, when tensions ran too high and he needed to take a moment to cool down. Sebastian watched him with no small bit of impatience, tempted to just shove his way past him and leave at that very moment.

"You can keep saying that it's not a problem," Joseph said as he put his glasses back on. His voice was much calmer now - almost gentle, even. "And maybe, on some level, you really do believe that. But you can't stand there and try to tell me that you believe that you're okay, either. Is this really how you want to live the rest of your life, Seb? Just floating back and forth between being at work and being drunk?"

"I didn't say it was going to be forever," he said. "It's just how I'm dealing with things right now."

"Why?" his partner asked. "Because you're grieving? It's been over six months, Sebastian. Nearly seven by now. How much longer do you intend to grieve in this way? It's not healthy. It's not productive. Don't you think it's time you started trying to heal instead?"

"And you think that reporting me to IA is the way to get me to heal?" he asked.

"Yes, actually, I do," he said. "With a little luck, they'll put you into counseling. You'll hate it at first, I'm sure, but..."

"Great," Sebastian sneered. "Counseling. And probation. And a reassignment off of homicide, and to a new partner. But, hey, if that's what you want, then..."

"It's not what I _want_ , Seb," Joseph hissed. "It's what _you_ need."

He didn't agree. No part of him agreed with that statement, because getting pulled off of homicide and being forced to abandon work that he'd spent years of his life on was the _last_ thing he needed right now. 

He was too beyond pissed off to even argue about it anymore. Sebastian merely scowled and shook his head, and then began to make his way to the door.

"For the record, Joseph," he said over his shoulder as he went, "after this? I don't owe you a goddamn thing anymore. Ever again."

\--

**July 31, 2012**

He hadn't told Myra about Joseph's report. In all honesty, Sebastian was pretty far in denial for the entire rest of the night. It was real enough to have kept him from drinking, but distant enough that he just couldn't wrap his head around it. At 10:00am the following day, though, when Investigator Phi knocked on his door and called him into the Internal Affairs office, it all became a sudden, crippling reality.

It was simultaneously so much better and worse than he'd expected it to be. The initial interview wasn't terrible. They asked him a series of questions about his general mood, the state of his marriage, his own perceptions of his drinking habits, as well as his own perceptions of his work performance. Sebastian may have fudged the truth on one or two of his answers, but he kept a clear and level head the whole time, and approached the entire meeting with as much rationality and professionalism as he could manage.

The most humiliating part was when they forced him to take a breathalyzer test. The second most humiliating part was when they shoved a cup in his hand and told him to piss in it so that they could screen him for any other substances that he may or may not be abusing. The third most humiliating part was when they told him that they were sending him home on probation until after their full investigation was through - which was going to take an upwards of four to six days - and that he had to undergo a full psychological evaluation and battery before he left.

Dr. Reynolds was the KCPD's assigned psychiatrist. She was young, sharp, and a complete and total smartass. If Sebastian hadn't been married, he would've been all over her. Part of him still wanted to be, regardless. There was something slightly thrilling about the way she conducted her evaluation. For as much as she seemed to be able to read his actions, tone, and mannerisms through whatever expertise she had in the psych field, he could see right through her just as well. The way that she worded her questions and framed the conversation was _exactly_ like so many interrogations that Sebastian had performed over the years. It was almost like a game of chess, and it'd been a long time since he'd had a worthy opponent like this.

"One last thing, Detective," Dr. Reynolds said, folding her hands on top of her desk and looking him directly in the eye. "I want to get a better handle on the state of your marriage. When was the last time you and your wife had sex?"

"I don't see how that's at all relevant, Doctor," he said.

"Oh, no," she said. "This has nothing to do with your evaluation. I'm asking because you've been staring at my neck and lips for the past two hours. It betrays your desperate desire for personal intimacy, as opposed to a frustrated need for sexual gratification. Now, is there anything else that you feel you'd like to tell me, or do you suppose that I've got everything covered?"

Sebastian froze in his seat, and Dr. Reynolds's eyes sparkled with amusement as the faintest hint of a smirk touched at her lips. While he thought they'd been doing a careful waltz back and forth this whole time with precisely chosen questions and guarded answers, the reality was that she'd played him like a fiddle. Every lie he told, every detail he omitted, every deflection he gave - she'd picked up on every single last one of them. He dropped his gaze and let out a heavy breath, feeling defeated. She was going to see him suspended and reassigned. That was all there was to it.

"Are we through here, Doctor?" he asked.

"The door's been open the whole time, Detective," she said smugly.

Without another word, he rose to his feet and left the room. As he made his way through the halls, he couldn't shake the paranoid, anxious feeling he got that everyone around him somehow already knew exactly what had just happened and exactly what was _going_ to happen over the next few days.

That was ridiculous, of course. There were far more important things going on than the question of, _Hey, what'd Phi want with Castellanos?_ , and Sebastian just had to believe that there was still enough professionalism in this building to focus only on the things that mattered.

He headed into his own office and caught a brief glimpse of Joseph slumped over his desk with his glasses off and his head in his hand. A glimpse was all Sebastian spared him, though. He purposefully avoided looking at him as he shut down his computer, locked up his files, and gathered his things. While he tried not to act like a tantruming child about it, slamming drawers and causing a scene, he couldn't help but let one slip here and there.

"They're sending you home?" Joseph asked eventually.

Sebastian shook his head and tried not to explode at him right there on the spot. The sweltering heat of their office only made his nerves fray further and further, and he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist as he bottled up the worst of his emotions. Just the sound of Joseph's voice pissed him off.

"On probation," he said. "So, take a good look, Joseph. This might be the last time you ever see me in this office and the last day you have me as a partner. Does your conscience feel better now? Are you satisfied? Because I sure as fuck hope you got what you wanted."

Joseph gave him a pained, helpless look that was only made more pathetic by the absence of his glasses on his face. Sebastian felt no sympathy for him.

"Seb, I..." Joseph started. "That isn't-"

He didn't want to hear it, and he didn't care. Before Joseph even finished his sentence, Sebastian was already on the move, fishing his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and heading for the door. He left without fanfare nor farewell. It earned him a few curious and puzzled glances from people as he passed them on his way out, but he decidedly ignored them and made a pit stop at Myra's office before he left.

"Hey," he said, giving a superficial knock at the door as he entered without permission. "Come have a smoke with me."

She looked up from her desk and furrowed her brow at him in confusion, but she got up and followed him outside without question or complaint. They headed out to the far side of the parking lot, where the designated smoking area was, and Sebastian lit her cigarette first before moving to his own.

"So, this is an unexpected little visit," she said after she took her first drag. "Is everything okay?"

"No," he said bitterly. "I'm being sent home. On probation. For the rest of the week."

Her expression immediately turned to shock and bewilderment, and Sebastian inhaled from his own cigarette while she gathered her thoughts. 

"What the hell did you do?" she asked.

"Joseph," he said, "filed a report with Internal Affairs about my drinking habits, and now there's a full investigation under way. I don't suppose you know anything about this?"

She shook her head, still looking as lost and confused as ever.

"No," she said. "I don't... Why?"

"'Whatever you decide to do, I support you,'" he parroted her own words back at her. "Sound familiar?"

Myra took a breath and squared her shoulders as a sense of irritation worked its way onto her face. She didn't seem to be scandalized by the fact that she'd gotten caught - just annoyed that he would even bring it up in the first place.

"You were listening," she said flatly.

"I _am_ a detective," he said. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

"Sebastian, listen to me," she started. Just as she opened her mouth to continue her thought, though, she stopped. The confusion and mild annoyance drained away from her face, and fearful realization dawned on her features in its wake. "Wait a minute. There's a _full-blown Internal Affairs investigation_ on you?"

"Yep," he said simply, bringing his cigarette up to his lips again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she said. "Do you even realize how completely _fucked_ we might be right now? If they start poking into my shit as an extension of you, and they find what I've been doing, _both_ of us could go to jail."

The news came as a slap to the face, and it knocked Sebastian out of all of his other thoughts, feelings, and worries. Any suspicion he'd had of Myra being involved in this evaporated in an instant, and he immediately shared the same fear that she wore openly on her face.

"I'll admit it," Myra went on. "I knew that things were getting worse between us, and I saw that _you_ were getting worse because of it. I wanted Joseph to get you help. I was trying to push him in that direction, because I didn't think you'd listen to me after our few big fights. But not like this. Sebastian, if I thought even for a _second_ he'd pull something like this, I would've put my foot down immediately."

"Shit lot of good that did you," he spat. He sighed in frustration, but he knew that he couldn't fault her completely. And after all, once again, he'd gotten what he'd wanted, didn't he? He'd wanted Myra to give a shit about his drinking. This was partially his fault, too, and he needed to start being more careful about what he wished for. "Goddamn it, Myra. What the fuck is wrong with us? Why can't we just fucking talk to each other anymore?"

"I don't know," she said sadly. "Let's just try not to panic. Alright? One step at a time. You're cut off, Sebastian. At least until the investigation is through, you cannot have a single drop of alcohol. At all. I don't care what it is or why you want it. And I'll... I'll just have to completely stop what I'm doing for the time being, too. I won't touch any of my things about... you-know-what. And we'll just... We'll lay low and wait for this to blow over."

He nodded at her numbly. There was wisdom in her words, he knew, but he couldn't find himself to feel hopeful about them. An entire week without his booze or her investigation... it'd been so long by now that he honestly didn't know what the two of them were going to do with themselves otherwise. 

And if that wasn't the most damning statement to make about the state of their marriage, he didn't know what was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I feel I need to take the time to thank everyone reading this fic and everyone who's left such amazing feedback. I initially started writing this just for myself and a handful of friends, but I'm writing it for you guys now, too. Your support has been overwhelming, and for the second time now, I have to thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> As always, I'm open for constructive criticism. Thank you guys so much for reading.


	5. August

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A plot-heavy chapter for you guys, with most of the emotion saved until the very end. The official theme song of this chapter is "I Will" by Matchbox Twenty.

**August 5, 2012**

That first night of probation had been the worst. It was the only time in his life thusfar that Sebastian even entertained the idea that he really might just have a problem with his drinking; he'd had to physically restrain himself from pouring a glass of Jameson more than once, and instead forced himself outside to have a cigarette to curb the craving. It was all in his head, he told himself. He only just _wanted_ a glass of whiskey out of habit and boredom - he didn't _need_ it in any physical way. Habits could be broken. Hell, he'd even quit smoking once before. But addictions? Those just weren't a part of who he was.

That night had involved a lot of pacing, a lot of TV, and a lot of stupid inane bullshit on the internet. Myra restarted a book she'd been reading back before the accident to pass the time (the ebook version on her laptop, since the physical copy had been destroyed in the fire), and Sebastian came to the cruelly disappointing realization that jerking off as a timekiller in his mid-thirties just didn't seem to work for the same duration or efficacy it had in his teens and twenties. Trying to do it for anything other than a quick relief was utterly pointless.

Though, with no further distractions between them, he and Myra went to bed together at the same time that night. At least that was something.

The next day left him with a lot of time to think and reflect, which he probably couldn't have hated more if he tried. He had time to think about _everything_ \- from the fire, to his feelings about Joseph, to the state of his marriage, and worst of all, to his own behavior over these past few months. Every little thing he came up with every time his mind wandered just left him hating himself more and more and more.

Sebastian considered himself to be a professional. Reckless on occasion, sure, but a professional nonetheless. Even during the worst bouts of his drinking and depression, he kept it all hidden behind closed doors, never once letting it slip out into the public eye, and certainly never into his work. Yet, even then, he wondered if it actually _hadn't_ affected his work in some way. He never came into work drunk, never drank on the job, and wasn't prone to hangovers, but a lack of sleep was a lack of sleep no matter which way he cut it, and it may have lent itself to oversights and minor slip-ups.

Up until he'd started drinking regularly, the only time Sebastian ever bent the rulebook or gave the finger to proper procedure was in order to be more efficient and effective at his job in ways that the red tape of the law sometimes didn't allow. But this? This had been purely selfish and destructive, and he honestly wasn't sure just how badly it'd fucked things up in the work he normally took so much pride in. He supposed IA would be the ones to make that call.

That night, Myra came home and said that rumors were already spreading around the department, now that IA was conducting interviews about it. She'd heard everything from "they think he's an alcoholic" to "I think they found him drunk on the job" to "I heard he tried to kill himself." She also said that Joseph had been so tightly wound that he snapped at anyone who tried to drag Sebastian's name through the mud - and Myra was semi-convinced he was almost at the point of a nervous breakdown by the end of the day. The guilt must have been eating at him, and it left Sebastian feeling horribly conflicted. On the one hand, he was touched and grateful that his partner still thought so much of him as to defend him like that, but on the other hand, this was all his fault in the first place, and he'd brought this all on himself.

There were still some hours to kill in the night after dinner. Myra retreated back into her book for a while, and Sebastian was left idly flipping through TV channels, trying to remember if he'd actually had any hobbies before turning to alcohol. He used to be big into cooking, he remembered... and then there'd been the gym on weekdays, basketball with the guys on Fridays, the shooting range every so often, and keeping up with football during the season. Being a dad took up all the rest of his free time. Damn, he didn't do _any_ of that shit anymore. That wasn't a great moment, that realization.

The turning point came on the evening of the third day, when Sebastian found that both full seasons of _Twin Peaks_ were available to stream on Netflix. He hadn't watched the show since it first aired back when he was in high school, but it definitely felt like something worth revisiting now. That was another thing that he remembered he used to really be into: fucked up horror shows and movies - not so much slashers as ones that really messed with the viewer's head and made them question which parts of the story were real and which were fabrications of reality in one way or another. David Lynch productions were always some of the best at that.

Myra joined him on the couch halfway through the second episode. By the third, they were cuddled up together and reminiscing about how much they'd both had a crush on Agent Cooper back in the day, and how this stupid show had been one of the seeds planted in Sebastian's head to push him towards law enforcement in the first place.

They both came to a conclusion that night: no matter how bad things were in their lives right now, at least they weren't trapped inside the Red Room.

Things picked up exponentially after that. Without anything better to do, they actually ended up talking to one another again, about everything and nothing all at once. Myra joined him in bed every single night, and they both became very grateful very quickly that she never went through with the appointment to get her IUD removed. 

It was kind of funny. As pissed off as Sebastian still was at Joseph for this whole IA incident, he supposed he had to be grateful that this whole thing ended up acting as a catalyst to getting his marriage back on track (with a little added help from FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper, of course).

Now it was Sunday. The last day of Sebastian's probation, presumably. With no word by 2pm, he started to get nervous. By 4, he was anxious. At 5, he was all but convinced that he was going to be totally fucked when he walked into the department on Monday. It wasn't until 6pm that his phone finally rang with a call from Investigator Phi.

"Good news, Castellanos," Phi's voice came through the line. "You passed with flying colors. I hope you're ready to get back to work tomorrow, because you've got a lot of catching up to do."

Sebastian was so relieved he nearly fainted. He'd honestly been expecting a suspension - or at the very least, an extended probation - with mandatory induction into a 12-step program. From the sounds of it, not only was that not happening, but they didn't seem to see the need to put him into any sort of treatment at all. The sheer amount of vindication he felt was mesmerizing - he _knew_ he didn't have a problem. It didn't seem like they'd unearthed anything about Myra's personal investigation, either, which was all the sweeter.

"Was I being tested, Investigator?" he asked, his joviality clear in his voice.

"Of course you were," Phi said. "Everything's a test. You should know that by now. But your breathalyzer came back negative, your drug test came back negative, your work history is flawless, your reports are beautiful... Some of your peers think you're a right asshole, but who isn't in that building? Other than that, it's the overwhelming opinion that you're a great detective who always has his shit together. The only hiccup was that you didn't really seem to woo Dr. Reynolds, but I'm willing to overlook that in the face of everything else."

Of course he hadn't. "What did she say?"

"Well," Phi told him, "she recommended therapy for symptoms of paranoia and depression, which might be linked to Post-Traumatic Stress, as well as couple's counseling for you and Myra... but, she did make it a point to say that you don't have an addictive or self-destructive personality, and if anything does you in, it won't be whiskey or suicide. That's good enough for me. We all have our demons. You wanna pursue therapy for your other crap, that's your decision to make on your own time. But you'll be able to read the whole report when you come in tomorrow."

"I have to testify for the Rivera case tomorrow," Sebastian said. "I'll be at the meeting in the morning, but I have court for the rest of the day."

"Tuesday, then," Phi said. "Whenever you want to come down and read it, it'll be there. You'll also be getting back-pay for the duration of your probation."

"No reassignments, either?" Sebastian asked.

"Nope," Phi said. "As a matter of fact, we even asked Detective Oda if he still felt comfortable as your partner, knowing that this investigation took place around you, and he was very, very adamant about sticking with you. Unless _you_ want a change, we can all just pretend like none of this ever happened."

"Except for the black mark on my record that says this investigation took place at all," Sebastian said.

"Look at it this way," Phi said, "if anything like this ever pops up again, you already have evidence in your favor of the complaints being baseless and unfounded. Almost every cop in this city has had a complaint filed against them for one reason or another, and nearly all of them have been bullshit. Why? Because people are assholes, and they just want to pick a fight or win a law suit. Just because your complaint came from within as opposed to some schmuck on the street doesn't make it any worse or more credible."

Strangely enough, that _did_ make him feel better. While it didn't diminish the resentment for having his record tarnished - especially when he'd gotten away with doing _so much worse_ shit in the past - it was at least something to know that the higher-ups didn't think as poorly of it as he did.

"Anything else?" Sebastian asked.

"Nope, that about does it," Phi said. "Good luck in court tomorrow, Castellanos."

Then, after a second, Phi tacked on, "Oh, and _make sure_ that you say hi to Myra for me."

Something about the way he said that brought a wave of dread along with it. Suddenly, Sebastian didn't trust his free and clear pass at all.

\--

**August 6, 2012**

Sebastian hated going to court. In fact, he hated anything that involved him sitting in a suit for six to eight hours while people took months and months of his hard work and called it "opinion" while trying to exonerate a man who he _knew_ was guilty of murder. The only thing he hated more than going to court was waking up an hour and a half early so that he could go sit in on detectives' bureau meetings. It seemed particularly cruel to have to endure both of those things on his first day back from probation, but that was just how life went sometimes.

Since it was Monday, he went through the normal routine of picking up coffee for both him and Joseph before heading into work. There was no reason for him to get catty or petty over what'd happened - at least, not in the work setting. The fact of the matter was that he and Joseph were an amazing team, and they needed to put their personal bullshit aside in order to keep doing what they did best. Sebastian could be pissed off at him on his own time.

Thankfully, it was something that Joseph seemed to understand intrinsically, and despite the strange, muted friction that still existed between them, they slipped back into normalcy almost seamlessly. They both took their seats at the long oak table in the conference room, and Sebastian immediately noticed something out of place in the picture.

"Who's that woman?" he asked only loud enough for Joseph to hear.

She sat off to the side of the room, a few feet away from the head of the table, where Deputy Chief Murphy was going to be giving whatever speech he had to in a few minutes. There was something odd about her general appearance and demeanor, though Sebastian couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. She was cute enough, he supposed - couldn't have been out of her twenties yet, with short brown hair and high cheekbones. She kind of looked like a younger version of Myra, though Myra had a rounder face, bigger eyes, more dramatic curves, and was approximately fifty times hotter than whoever this woman was (though Sebastian might have been a tiny bit biased on that front).

"I can't rightfully say that I know," Joseph answered. "I've never seen her before."

"What's up with her eyes?" Sebastian asked. He wrinkled his brow in confusion. Maybe _that_ was what seemed so strange about her. Her eyes were purple, of all colors.

"I imagine that they're cosmetic lenses, Sebastian," his partner responded.

"Well, no shit," he said. "But _why?_ She's got a badge on. Does she know she's a police officer?"

"I don't suppose that they're much different from any other accessory," Joseph said. "Women can't wear jewelry while on duty other than a wedding band, so this must be her way of expressing herself while at her job."

"What the fuck?" Sebastian asked. He took another sip of his coffee and shook his head. No matter how long he stared at her or how hard he thought about Joseph's assessment of her eye color, he couldn't reconcile the thought of someone willingly doing this in a field like law enforcement. "I just don't get it. Maybe I'm just getting old."

Joseph hesitated for a bit - long enough for Sebastian to notice, at the very least. He slowly turned his head towards him, waiting for _some_ kind of encouragement, but nothing came.

"They're _your_ words, Seb," Joseph said.

Sebastian grumbled over the rim of his coffee cup, and a tiny smirk appeared on Joseph's face. Well, at least there were no more doubts as to whether things were going to go back to normal. They were already there. As much as Sebastian hated to admit it, he really had missed Joseph's dry wit and sarcasm over the past few days.

The meeting was just as dull as he'd expected it to be. Nothing life-threatening, or even all that important. Minor policy changes, minor notes and thoughts from the Board of Commissioners. It also didn't help that Deputy Chief Murphy was as disinterested in leading the meeting as everyone else was in listening to it. He was an older guy - nearly old enough to be Sebastian's father, and about just as lively - and the level at which he was done with stupid politics in this building was no secret at all. If not for the Keurig over on the side of the room occasionally giving Sebastian a reason to get up and do something other than listen to bullshit, he might have actually gone crazy.

"Alright, one last thing and then we can get the hell out of here," Murphy said. "I bet you're all wondering who this lovely lady is beside me. We got a new transfer from the state. Junior Detective Juli Kidman. I guess they thought that we needed a hand with the Elk River case, so that means: Oda, Castellanos. You're on training duty. Don't fuck this up."

Sebastian choked on his coffee. All eyes turned to him for a moment as he coughed and sputtered, but he recovered quickly enough, waving everyone's attention away.

"You're giving us a training assignment?" Joseph asked. "Is that really wise?"

"Wasn't my call," the Deputy Chief said. "From the way I understand it, this order comes all the way from the Board."

"How long is this going to last?" Joseph asked.

"Til the case gets solved, Oda," he replied. "So it's in your best interest to get it done as soon as possible."

"Hold on," Sebastian cut in. "You're telling me she doesn't get promoted to full-fledged detective status until we solve the highest profile case in the fucking county? The one we've been working on for two years now?"

"Aw," he mocked. "Cheer up, Castellanos. It won't be that bad. You have court today for another case, right? You'll be able to introduce Junior Detective Kidman to the more glamorous side of her job, while she watches six months of policework go down the toilet in six hours. It'll get her ready for the perpetual disappointment of unsolved cases in her future as a homicide detective."

"We won't lose this one," Joseph protested.

"Better fuckin' hope not," he said. "And when you're done with that, why don't you two take the rest of the day off? Kidman's new in town. She could use a couple of handsome, strapping young men like yourselves to show her around." He paused for only a second, and then added on, "You can take her out to visit some of Castellanos's favorite bars."

A dull rumble of chuckles and snickers rose up in the room around them. Sebastian's heart sank. He knew that word was likely to get out about the IA incident sooner or later, but he thought that his official pass and clear record would've spoken for themselves. Apparently not. It wasn't the laughter in and of itself that bothered him; it was more the fact that he was listening to the sound of all of his colleagues' lost respect for him. As he looked around the room, he came to find that only he, Myra, and Joseph lacked a smile.

"How dare you," Myra snapped. "Any of you. Sebastian's a better detective on his own, drunk, than the whole of you put together, sober."

"He must have a two-foot-long cock, too, to get that kind of a defense," one of the guys in narcotics said. "Jesus, Myra, you let him fuck you in the ass with that thing?"

Sebastian was on his feet in an instant, ready to jump the table, but Joseph was right there with him, holding him back and keeping him in place. Sebastian didn't give a shit if they laughed at him; they could laugh until they choked on it, for all he cared, but he wasn't going to sit around and listen to these shitheaps disrespect his wife. His heart was racing so fast that the edges of his vision blurred, and it was only his innate refusal to hurt his partner that kept him from beating the shit out of that motherfucker across the way. 

"Come on, Seb," Joseph murmured in his ear, soft and soothing. "Let it go. It's not worth it."

"Yeah, sit down," another detective piped up. "Wouldn't want you to get blood on your church clothes, God Boy."

"Alright, that's enough out of all of you," Murphy cut in, gesturing for Sebastian to stand down. "Fun's over. And the meeting, too, for that matter. Get your asses to work. This is a police department, not a fucking schoolyard. Christ."

The other detectives murmured amongst themselves and slowly began to get up and shuffle out of the room, but Joseph didn't let go of Sebastian right away. He knew better. It wasn't another solid ten seconds until Sebastian even _began_ to relax, and he had to take a few deep, steadying breaths before his partner finally backed off. Myra was at his side then, and she tugged at him to face her by the open panels of his suit jacket.

"Well," she said, "I suppose that answers the question of whether we should have any more kids. We seem to work with enough to last us for the rest of our lives."

"I hate that he talked to you like that," he told her.

"I know," she said, "but I'm a big girl. I can handle it. And, sadly enough, I'm pretty used to it by now. You come to expect it as a woman living in a man's world."

"That doesn't make it right, Myra," he said.

"No," she agreed with a shake of her head. "No, it definitely doesn't. But you can't fight all the evil in this world on your own, Sebastian, or even all the evil within this building. You just can't let it bother you like that. Stay focused. You need to go give 'em hell in the courtroom today. And try not to scare your rookie too much, alright?"

He forced a smile at her. "No promises."

She smiled back at him as she turned to leave, and she gave Joseph a friendly pat on the shoulder as she passed him. Joseph looked absolutely mystified. He watched her go with clear and open bewilderment on his face at their warm and almost affectionate exchange, and when he looked back over at Sebastian, his expression only grew more confused. Sebastian offered him no explanation - as far as he was concerned, he didn't owe him one - and turned his attention towards his approaching trainee. It was time to put on his business voice. He fucking hated his business voice.

"Junior Detective Kidman," he said, offering his hand for a shake. She took it with only a mild sense of interest, then moved to shake Joseph's hand as well. "Senior Detective Sebastian Castellanos, and this is my partner, Detective Joseph Oda. It looks like we'll be your superior standing officers for the next indeterminate amount of time."

"A pleasure to meet you both," she said, though her tone suggested anything but. "Was that your wife just now?"

"Yes," he said. "That was Detective Myra Castellanos, head of the KCPD's missing persons bureau. You'll likely be seeing a lot of her over the course of your training. Homicide and missing persons tend to go hand in hand on occasion."

"I see," she said.

"And while I have the opportunity," he went on, "allow me to apologize for that little outburst just now. It was unprofessional and a bad first impression."

"Water under the bridge," she said.

"Good," he said. "Just as the Deputy Chief said, we have to make an appearance in court today to testify on one of our cases. We have to stop by our office first, so you can take that time to get your bearings, but then we have to go."

She nodded once, and Joseph didn't seem to have anything to add, so the three of them headed back to their office in silence. Sebastian could feel Kidman's eyes on him as they walked, and something about it made him wholly uncomfortable. It wasn't the typical up-down that women still tended to give him from time to time - she wasn't checking out his ass - but he couldn't shake the distinct feeling that she was still _studying_ him in some way, like some alien species trying to understand how human mannerisms worked. 

When they reached the door to the office, Sebastian held it open for her but didn't walk in himself, and he barred Joseph's path as well.

"Make yourself at home," he said. "We'll meet you in there in a second."

She nodded and headed inside, seeming to understand the necessity for a private chat between him and Joseph. Sebastian closed the door behind her and held his hand against the knob for a second, gathering his thoughts. First thing was first; he couldn't deny how much that little debacle at the meeting left a bad taste in his mouth, or just how angry he was that his reputation around the building had suffered so much. As much as he wanted to keep his personal feelings about the IA incident out of the office, out of the department, the fact of the matter was that it had bled _into_ the department now, and he was unable to ignore it. He looked over at Joseph, his expression cold.

"I hope you're proud of yourself," he said.

Joseph's expression turned to ice as well, though Sebastian could clearly see fire behind his eyes.

"Am I meant to apologize now?" he asked.

"Don't fuckin' strain yourself, Joseph," Sebastian sneered.

His partner heaved a heavy sigh in frustration and annoyance, but when he started to wind up for a rebuttal, Sebastian cut him off before he even got the words out.

"Anyway, does this whole thing feel wrong to you?" he asked.

Joseph deflated immediately and had to take a second to orient himself to the sudden shift in mood, but he was quickly restored to his normal, logical self. There were still bits of irritation sprinkled in with his tone, but for the most part, he got right back on track.

"It does, a little bit," he said, "but, at the same time, it's not entirely surprising. The Board has never cared about individual officers, or the things we have to go through in order to get our jobs done and get them done right. All they've ever cared about is numbers. They wanted the Elk River killer caught within the first six months, and now it's been two years and suddenly the senior detective on the case was placed on probation, however brief it was. They can't take us off the case for that, but they found a way to give us a little incentive to move faster."

"That's fucked up," Sebastian said bitterly, "holding a woman's promotion hostage just because they want their good PR."

"I agree with you," Joseph said, "but there isn't much we can do about it. All we can do is go in there and be her teachers and hope that she can help us more than hinder us."

Sebastian nodded at that, seeing the wisdom in his partner's words. As much as he didn't like it, this was the only option available to them. With a tiny sigh, he opened the door to the office again and stepped inside, Joseph in tow. Kidman was standing towards the back of the room with her arms crossed over her chest, looking just as disinterested as she had throughout the entire morning so far. It made Sebastian's skin crawl. He sighed again and then slipped back into his professional teaching voice - which sounded strangely a lot like his dad voice, now that he was thinking about it. Great. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was acting as a father and babysitter to some new recruit.

"Kidman, while we have a minute here," he said, "let's lay some ground rules. For all intents and purposes, Joseph and I are equals. You'll show him the same respect you show me, and vice versa. But on the very, very rare chance that you ever receive conflicting information between us, my word always rules out as law. As Senior Detective, I always have final say of authority."

"I understand," she nodded.

"Your job here," he went on, "is to observe, assist, and learn from us. Nothing else. It's good to show initiative and enthusiasm, but don't ever forget your place."

"I won't, Detective Castellanos," she said.

She struggled around the Spanish double-L, and he held up a hand to silence her. It was one of his biggest pet peeves in the world. "None of that 'Detective Castellanos' shit. It takes too long to say, and you make it sound like you're choking on it. Just Sebastian."

"Alright, then," she said. "Sebastian." She turned her attention towards Joseph then. "What about you?"

"'Joseph' is fine," he told her.

"You'll earn the right to be called Juli once you're a full-fledged detective," Sebastian cut back in. "Until then, it's just Kidman. Sorry the Board fucked you on that one."

"It wasn't your decision," she said. "I accept my role as it is."

"That's a good attitude to have," Joseph said. "We'll do our part to try to make this as painless as possible and teach you everything we know."

"I'm looking forward to it," she said.

"That covers the main things, for now," Sebastian said. "We'll key you into more as time goes by. Joseph, do you have everything we need for the day ahead?"

"Right here and ready to go," Joseph said as he locked his briefcase and pulled it off the desk. He hesitated for a second and then went on to say, "Sebastian, you're not really going to walk into court looking like that."

Sebastian blinked in confusion and looked down at himself. He was wearing the same thing he wore to court all the time: gray suit, black shirt, red tie. He'd even taken the time to iron his shirt and pants last night, since Myra had thrown her head back and laughed when he asked her to do it for him. Normally, he didn't bother to take the extra step, but after his three-day-long _Twin Peaks_ marathon, he couldn't help but think that Agent Cooper would've disapproved if he didn't.

When it seemed obvious that Sebastian wasn't going to make the connection in his head as to what was wrong, Joseph sighed and placed his briefcase back on the desk before heading over there himself. Sebastian straightened his posture as Joseph grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and buttoned his top button for him. He then went to go tighten the knot of his tie, but when he couldn't get it to sit flat against his shirt, he sighed and pulled the whole thing loose and started from scratch. A traitorous flutter of warmth and excitement spread through Sebastian's stomach and into his chest as Joseph tied his tie for him. It was the closest they'd been physically since the incident with the kiss, and despite how betrayed and angry he still felt over the IA report and how much better his marriage had been doing lately, he couldn't smother the thrill and affection that coursed through him from this simple gesture of trust and intimacy.

This was bad. This was really, _really_ bad.

Joseph set the knot of Sebastian's tie at the hollow of his throat and then pulled his suit jacket closed to button it. Then, without a word, he turned on his heels to reclaim his briefcase - as though what'd just happened was the most normal, natural thing in the world. It actually _was_ a fairly normal occurrence between the two of them, but in light of everything that'd happened, and with Sebastian's own worrying, confusing feelings thrown into the mix, he couldn't help but feel that this time had just been different from all the others.

"Have you two always been this close?" Kidman asked.

"More or less," Sebastian told her. "Does that bother you, Kidman?"

"No, not at all," she said. "It's just... surprising, I guess. Most men aren't so physical with their affections like this."

"Affections," he repeated back at her. The way she said it was almost insulting, though Sebastian was semi-aware of the fact that he might just be acting sensitive due to the little uprising of emotion he'd just experienced. "Kidman, what did I just say about keeping your place?"

"I'm sorry, Sebastian," she said. "I didn't mean anything by it."

Joseph gave him a disapproving look that confirmed his suspicions about his own sensitivity and overreaction, but his partner stayed quiet on the matter, presumably out of a desire to not undermine his authority so early in their relationship with their new trainee. Sebastian could be grateful for that much, at least.

He corralled them both out into the hall so that he could lock up the office before they left. Kidman's eyes remained trained on him the entire time.

\--

**August 14, 2012**

"We should decide on a course of action before we head in there," Joseph said.

Sebastian sighed and leaned back in his chair. Tuesdays were interrogation days. They weren't as bad as court appearances, and some interrogations went better than others, but for the most part they were just headaches that he would've rather avoided.

"Who are we questioning, again?" he asked.

"Your favorite person, as a matter of fact," his partner said. "Nicholas Higgins, the lead suspect in the murder of his wife, Lisa Higgins."

Sebastian winced visibly.

"Fuck," he spat. "I hate that guy. Do we even need to bother? He won't talk."

"Why not?" Kidman cut in.

Her question was so abrupt in tone and timing that it nearly knocked Sebastian off balance. Kidman seemed to have this really bad habit of staying so still and so silent that he all but forgot that she was even in the room - until she would pipe up out of nowhere and announce her presence again. It was jarring at best, and it was downright annoying at worst. Sebastian took a second to reorient himself and get his thoughts back on track before he answered her.

"Because he knows he did a good job," he said, "and he's damn proud of it, too. The guy's practically a cartoon villain. All he needs is a long mustache to twirl while he cackles at us and tells us that we'll never prove that it was him."

"You've already condemned him as guilty?" she asked.

"He _is_ guilty," he told her.

"At least, that's what we're trying to prove," Joseph said. He sounded like a schoolteacher clarifying a point for his student, but Sebastian saw right through his act. This was less of a lesson for Kidman and more of just Joseph slipping into character for the pending interrogation. "In most cases, it's important to keep an open mind and steer yourself clear of personal biases, but then there are others where taking a neutral stance is more harmful than helpful. For example, in this case, Sebastian and I have a pretty clear picture of exactly what happened, when it happened, and how it happened. Unfortunately, nearly all of the evidence we have is circumstantial. Juries are fickle, and they've been spoiled by too many popular crime dramas. They often forget that the requirement for a guilty verdict is belief beyond a _reasonable_ doubt - not beyond a shadow of a doubt. They also think that forensic, DNA, and blood evidence are simple things to get, and that they should be present in every single case if the suspect is guilty. Right now, our best bet at getting justice for Mrs. Higgins's death is to get a confession out of her killer."

"Which we're not going to get," Sebastian finished for him, "and this guy is going to walk. And that's going to be one more scumbag let back out onto the streets by the virtue of the American justice system. Thank you, Professor Oda."

"Don't be so quick to rule it out just yet, Sebastian," Joseph protested. "Higgins is stubborn and resourceful, but he isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. We just need to be smarter than he is."

"So, what's the plan, then?" he asked.

"Well, you said it yourself," Joseph said. "If he wants to act like a cartoon villain, then we ought to go in there as the heroes."

"You're suggesting that we put on an act," Sebastian said.

"It's the easiest way to work with some of these people," his partner said. "Higgins in particular isn't going to respond to direct questioning, but his ego is so massive that it'll be easy to manipulate. If we make him feel like he's winning, he might let his guard down."

"It'd be like fighting a dragon," Sebastian said.

"Well, I think that's kind of an obtuse parallel to draw," Joseph told him, "but I suppose the general idea is the same, yes."

"You're the one who said we should go in as heroes," Sebastian said. "I can't think of anything more heroic than slaying a dragon."

"I won't argue that," Joseph said, "though it does seem a little insulting to dragons, comparing them to Nicholas Higgins."

"What about knights?" Sebastian asked.

"Knights?"

"Do you think it's insulting to them to compare them to us?"

"A little, sure, but knights aren't the only people who fell dragons," Joseph said. "I'd argue that you're more of a rogue class - a mercenary maybe. And I'd probably be more of a scholarly magic-user. Maybe. Though I could also qualify as a rogue due to my knowledge with disarming bombs and traps." 

He then nodded once and took a breath before continuing. "Alright, I think we're ready."

"Yeah," Sebastian agreed, climbing to his feet. "Yeah, I felt good about that one. And for the record, Joseph? You are biggest nerd I've ever met out of high school."

"I'll take that as a compliment," his partner said around a smile.

If Kidman was at all lost or confused about that exchange, she didn't show it. Though her silent acceptance was nothing short of disturbing, Sebastian honestly wasn't sure what else he'd expected out of her. Any other rookie would have been asking a thousand questions by now, but not her. Never her. She only ever asked questions when it was least expected of her, and they were never the kinds of questions that she _should have_ been asking.

"Nothing from you, Kidman?" he asked.

"I'm just trying to observe and learn, Sebastian," she said.

"Could you try a little harder, please?"

" _Seb,_ " Joseph scolded. "She won't be able to learn anything if we don't teach her first." He turned his attention back towards Kidman in order to explain. "Interrogations require a small bit of play-acting and improvisation in order to be successful. Sebastian and I have our roles pretty well defined from working together for so many years. I do most of the talking initially, and then Sebastian pipes up only to derail my thoughts. As the conversation slowly goes off topic, the atmosphere becomes more casual. The more casual the atmosphere, the more relaxed the suspect is, and the more likely they are to say something that they may not have otherwise."

"I see," she said.

"Good," Sebastian cut in. "Wait for us in the hall. We'll be out in a second."

She hesitated, and for a flash of a second it looked like she was going to protest or press the matter, but she ultimately decided to let it go and do as she was told. Sebastian followed her intently with his gaze as she went, and he only pulled his eyes away from her once he saw the door click shut behind her. Joseph's brow was wrinkled in confusion, and he gave him a puzzled look.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Does she..." Sebastian started. "Creep you out at all?"

Joseph sighed and shook his head. "Sebastian, please tell me that you didn't just send our rookie out of the room to ask me _that._ "

"No, Joseph, I mean it," he protested. "There's just something about her... It gets under my skin. The weird circumstances surrounding her assignment to us, and the way that she doesn't seem to give a damn about operations or procedure. She just asks other questions about the most irrelevant shit instead. It's not the kind of mindset I've ever seen from an officer before. Even the really shitty ones, even the assholes are at least _mildly_ curious about how to do things, even if it's only so that they can figure out how to go about _not_ doing them later."

"I think you're being a little oversensitive," Joseph told him. "Looking for villains lurking in the shadows. I can't really blame you after what happened at the meeting last Monday, but-"

"And whose fault was that, again?" he cut him off.

Another sigh, and Joseph gave Sebastian a pointed look.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Sebastian," he said, glaring at him. "You're being so sensitive that you just snapped at me for calling you sensitive. Get a grip. We have an interrogation to go perform."

He gathered up his notes and walked past him, heading for the door.

"Why are you so quick to defend her?" Sebastian asked him, stopping him in his tracks.

He turned around and gave him a hardline stare. "Why are _you_ so quick to attack her? She can't help the nature of her assignment. It's not like she chose this. I happen to think that Kidman is a bright woman and shows a lot of potential. She's attentive and a good listener - two very good virtues to be found in a detective, and two that I can't say that I've really seen a lot of lately."

Joseph turned tail then and headed out into the hallway to meet with Kidman, leaving Sebastian to simmer with rage inside of his office.

\--

**August 19, 2012**

"There you are," Myra said, glancing up at Sebastian from over the screen of her laptop.

He still wasn't over it. Over two weeks straight with Myra in bed with him every single night. He felt like he'd won the fucking lottery. Even now, it remained a novelty to see her as she was - sitting in bed with her computer on her lap, in that oversized Rolling Stones tshirt she always wore to bed, her hair still wet from the shower and hastily held up in a clip. Sebastian offered her a faint smirk as he closed the bedroom door behind him and reached over his shoulders to pull his shirt up over his head.

"Were you waiting for me?" he asked.

"Maybe a little," she said.

"Doesn't feel so great, does it?"

"Don't fuckin' start."

He chuckled at that, and she smiled too, though she muttered something about how much of an ass he was under her breath. It felt good to be able to joke about it. Things weren't perfect between them, or even really all that great, but this definitely felt like a step forward in progress. Sebastian stripped down and readied himself for bed, and the feeling of Myra's eyes on his backside as he stepped out of his jeans wasn't lost on him. Those were the little things that he'd missed so much - little gestures of appreciation and desire that made him feel like she still wanted him. Made him actually start to feel sexy again.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," she said.

He slipped between the sheets beside her and leaned over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table. The one that sat on Myra's side of the bed remained lit for now.

"Go ahead," he told her.

"That new girl you're training," she said. "Kidman. How much do you know about her?"

"Not much," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," she said, tapping her index finger against the side of her computer as she thought. "I just get this bad feeling from her. To think that she got assigned to you the day you came back from probation, and with everything else that's been going on... It just bothers me. And I can't seem to find any real information on her."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one," he said. "I said the same thing to Joseph, and he just told me I was being oversensitive and looking for things that weren't there. The way he's so quick to jump to her defense... I don't know. I think he might have a crush on her, or something."

Sebastian settled down against the mattress then, lying on his back and pulling the sheets over top of him. He felt Myra's gaze on him before he saw it, and when he looked up at her, she was staring down at him with a bewildered expression and a half-formed, incredulous smile.

"What?" he asked.

"What the hell was that?" she asked.

"What the hell was what?"

"Sebastian, are you..." she said. "Are you... _jealous?_ "

"Jealous of _what?_ "

"Of Kidman," she said. "You're a thirty-five-year-old man, and you just accused your best friend of having _a crush_ because he stood up for a female coworker." She closed her computer before continuing, and leaned over and down to stow it safely under the bed. As she straightened her posture again, she reached up and pulled the clip from her hair, letting it spill out just past her shoulders. "You've had Joseph's undivided attention for so damn long that you're jealous that he's finally started to notice someone other than you."

He scoffed at that. "Oh, Myra, come on."

"No, no," she said. "It's alright. I think it's cute. It's just... wow, Sebastian."

The thought instantly raced through his mind: _You wouldn't think it was cute if you knew I almost cheated on you with him last month._ Regret immediately followed. Things were going so well between him and Myra lately; he didn't need to start ruining it now with thoughts like that.

"I'm not jealous," he insisted. "Kidman just creeps me out, is all. There's something wrong with this whole damn thing, and it doesn't need to be made worse with Joseph's judgment being clouded. Of all the people for him to get a boner for..."

Myra grinned at that and huffed in amusement as she slunk down onto the bed herself, not minding to turn the bedside lamp off before she did. Instead, she rolled over and straddled Sebastian's hips, lying against him in a way that was horribly inviting. He couldn't help but rove his hands over her ass and pull her in even closer. He was rewarded with a kiss, deep and sensual, and his hands slowly traveled from her ass up beneath the hem of her shirt, fingertips trailing along the bare skin of her back.

"But I mean it," she murmured to him softly, running a hand through his hair as best she could. "Keep an eye on her. I don't trust her, Sebastian."

"I will," he promised. "I'm already wary of her enough as it is."

"Good."

He sealed the promise with a kiss, and that was the end of that. One kiss became two, and before long he had her topless and on her back. Sebastian and Myra had recently rediscovered the concept of making love as opposed to just having sex, and while the latter was typically more their style, he would be lying if he tried to say he hadn't missed the former. He created an agonizingly slow circuit around her body with his mouth, making sure to pay full attention to every last inch. His attention lingered on the scar above her right hip - the bullet wound that'd brought them together in the first place - and she laughed softly and teased him for being sentimental.

They eventually ended up lying on their sides, with Sebastian fucking her slowly from behind. It was one of his favorite positions - holding her close with one arm slung over her shoulders and draped across her chest, and the other holding her legs open by the bend of her left knee. She pressed the bridge of her nose against the side of his jaw as she whined and panted, her hot breath rolling across the skin of his neck with every labored exhale. He'd ended up coming first, but he took the time to finish her off with his hands between her legs and his lips at her shoulder and neck, whispering filthy things to her all the while.

As the world settled back in around them, Sebastian buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes, feeling warm and content and safe. Myra weaved the fingers of one of her hands through his and held his palm against her chest, just over her heart. 

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, her voice dragged him right back into the waking world.

"Sebastian," she said, "can I ask you something?"

He hummed at her tiredly and shifted his weight against her a bit to let her know that he was still awake.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

It pulled him a little further into consciousness as a sense of uncertainty rose up within him. That sure was a hell of a question for her to be asking after sex, but he wasn't quite sure what to make of it yet. He sighed a bit and gave her woven fingers a gentle squeeze in reassurance.

"I'm not going to kill myself, if that's what you're asking," he said.

"No, that isn't what I'm asking," she said. "If I died tomorrow, would you be _okay?_ Could you stand on your own?"

What the fuck? What kind of question was _that?_

"I'd be a fucking wreck," he said, fully awake again now. "I don't know what I'd do, and I don't really want to think about it."

She was quiet for a moment, but then went on to ask, "And if you found it in your heart to forgive Joseph? What then? Would you let him stand with you, if you couldn't stand on your own?"

He was totally stunned by the proposition. Anxious. Suddenly all he could think about was that conversation he'd overheard between her and Joseph last month, just before the IA incident happened. _I know you'll take care of him,_ Myra had said. Joseph had told her, _You make it sound like you're dying._ Sebastian never thought this would come up as relevant ever again - he thought it was just Myra's subtle manipulations to push Joseph into action - but it was starting to sound like she really was planning on dying soon.

"Myra, what the fuck are you asking me this shit for?" he asked. "You're scaring me, now."

She untangled her hand from his and rolled over in his arms to face him. There was a sincere but sad smile on her face as she tenderly and affectionately traced the tips of her fingers across the line of his jaw.

"Don't be scared, Sebastian," she said, taking the tone she used to when she comforted Lily after a nightmare. "No matter what happens, don't ever be scared."

"That just scares me even more," he said. "What the hell is this about?"

"Nothing," she said. "Just... after everything that's happened, I just... Things can change so quickly. In the blink of an eye, we lost _everything_ Sebastian. And after this whole shit with IA, I... I just want to know that you'll be alright if something unexpected happens to me. So, I don't just mean to ask if you'll survive it. You're stubborn enough that I'm sure you will. I just want to know if you'll be _okay._ "

He sighed and gently brushed some of the hair away from her face. They hadn't really talked about this yet. Myra had expressed to him back when this all started that she thought he was getting worse - that she'd wanted Joseph to get him help. Since then, neither of them had brought it up. He supposed she had every right to be worried; part of the reason why Joseph reported him in the first place was because he'd honestly been afraid of Sebastian hurting himself. 

And, besides, _he_ was the one who'd kept suggesting that they needed to talk to each other more. It looked like he got what he wanted. Now, if only he thought he was mentally and emotionally equipped to handle it. Maybe that in and of itself should've been his answer to Myra, but he took an extra minute to dig down deeper for a better response.

"I'd get through it," he said. "Somehow. And one day, I _will_ forgive Joseph. I'm just not ready to yet."

She seemed to accept that as an answer and nodded her head faintly against the pillow.

"I can't even tell you how relieving that is," she said. "I thought you'd lost all your confidence in yourself, Sebastian. I'm glad you haven't. Now, just... Promise me. Don't ever be scared."

Though he nodded at her and gave her a reassuring kiss, it was a complete lie. The truth was that he hadn't been this afraid since he'd first gotten the news about the fire. Between Myra's words, Kidman's mysterious assignment, and Investigator Phi's ominous message, Sebastian was absolutely terrified.

_Make sure you say hi to Myra for me._

He didn't sleep that night.

\--

**August 24, 2012**

It was a little bit past 4:30 when Myra came into the homicide office. Sebastian was leaned over Kidman's shoulder in order to show her how to access and navigate the AFIS system in their network, and he only spared his wife a brief passing glance as she entered. They got visits from Myra all the time, due to the nature of their areas of expertise, and usually Joseph was more of a help to her than he was, anyway. After all, Joseph was the one who kept the more detailed notes.

"Hey Myra," Joseph greeted her. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah, actually," she said. "I need to know if you guys had a case come across your desk by the name of Gutierrez. I'm about to go question the family, and I want to make sure that a body was never found before I even bother."

Sebastian looked up from what he was doing and gave his wife a bit of a puzzled look.

"You're going to question them _now?_ " he asked. "This late in the day?"

"Yep," she said. "You know how it goes sometimes. We have to operate on _their_ schedules, not ours."

"I don't believe we have a case by that name," Joseph said, "or, at least, not that I can recall. What was the victim's first name?"

"Tatiana," Myra told him. "She was a nurse on overnight staff at Beacon Mental."

"That fucking hospital again," Sebastian thought aloud. "The hell's with that? I thought they rooted out all of the corruption and sick shit there by now. Those people deserve to be treated better. Like actual human beings."

Myra gave him a helpless shrug. "I'm sure if I knew the answer, I'd be making a lot more money than I do now."

"I don't have a file here," Joseph said as he scrolled through things on his computer. "There must not have been a body. This is the first I'm hearing of her."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Myra sighed. "It's a weird case. No one can seem to give me a straight answer as to where and when, exactly, she went missing."

"Working overnight, I'm not surprised," Sebastian said. "I remember when I did third shift as a rookie beat cop. There were a few times I realized that if I ever got killed or went missing, no one would even know for hours."

"That was also back when the only form of communication you had in your cruiser was a shitty radio from the stone age that didn't even get a clear signal half the time, dear," Myra teased.

Sebastian stonefaced her. A smirk tugged at the corners of Joseph's lips, and Sebastian just stood and waited for the inevitable second shoe to drop. Back before everything went to shit, Myra used to joke that she and Joseph had to stand in solidarity together as Sebastian's two wives.

"I think she's calling you old, Seb," Joseph said.

"I know what she's calling me," he snapped. He turned his attention towards his wife again. "I wonder what that says about you, then. You're even older than I am."

"Only by a few months," she said. "And besides, it's not how old you are, it's how old you feel. And look."

Sebastian grumbled to himself as he turned his attention back down towards AFIS and Kidman. "I must have missed approximately eighty-two of my goddamn birthdays, then."

Myra and Joseph shared a quiet chuckle between themselves, and Sebastian ignored them in order to get back to training. Kidman had remained blessedly silent throughout this entire thing - something that he'd have to commend her for later. Just like everything else, she'd earn the right to poke fun and ride his ass once she became a full-fledged detective, and not a second sooner - assuming, of course, that she even had a sense of humor to begin with.

He'd only just remembered where he left off in his teachings when he felt Myra gently touch at his arm and tug at his sleeve. Sebastian blinked in surprise as he stood up straight to face her; he hadn't even noticed her coming up on him at all.

"Hey, uh," she said. "This will probably keep me for a while, so don't wait up with dinner."

"Alright," he nodded.

He wasn't quite sure why she'd had to physically grab his attention for something like that. Usually she just sent him a text after the fact, if she thought she was going to be held up.

She still wouldn't let him move his attention away from her, and she didn't turn to walk away. She idly fingered his tie and the collar of his shirt, giving the illusion that she was fixing it, even though she was doing absolutely nothing at all.

It wasn't like her. While it was impossible to completely switch off their dynamic as a married couple while at work, the two of them rarely, if ever, displayed any sort of outward gestures of affection while they were on duty. It was unprofessional and a needless distraction. In fact, Myra had always been more of a stickler about this than Sebastian had ever been, and he occasionally stole a kiss from her cheek here and there just to ruffle her feathers about it.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she said, sounding distant. "Just feeling a little needy today, I guess."

"Hey," he said, gently nudging her beneath her chin to get her to raise her sights to his eyes. "Save it. You can have me all to yourself when you get home. I'll be waiting for you."

She blew out a sharp breath and nodded at him numbly. The fingers of her right hand continued to dance around his collar, and then she raised her left hand to it as well. He watched her nervously, trying to piece together what would've possibly been going through her head then to make her act like this.

And then she pulled him in for a kiss. He was so shocked at first that he didn't even think to kiss her back. It was only a second of hesitation, and he did eventually reciprocate, as weird as it felt to be kissing her in his office while his rookie was watching. Myra took that as a sign and opportunity to press even deeper, parting her lips for him as the kiss slipped into something a bit more amorous. Sebastian was stunned, and his kiss was distracted and half-hearted at best, but it didn't stop his wife from roving her hands up the sides of his neck in order to fan her fingers through his hair at the back of his head.

When she finally broke the kiss, she didn't pull away from him. She hovered close enough that their lips were only a hair's breadth away from touching again, and her uneven breathing betrayed just how upset she was in that moment. Sebastian's mind struggled to think of something to say - a question why, maybe, or even just something comforting to his wife, who was clearly distressed - but he only came up blank.

"I love you, Sebastian," she whispered so only he could hear. "I love you."

His heart dropped into his stomach, and his stomach dropped into his nuts. That was the first time she'd said those words to him since before the fire - no matter how many times he said them to her, she never returned them. He thought he should've been ecstatic to finally hear them, but the sense of dread and foreboding that they carried made him queasy. He felt sick. This was wrong. Something was _wrong._

Before he could even make sense of what was happening, Myra slipped out of his arms and headed out the door. A half-second later, he was able to snap himself out of the daze she'd left him in, and he made to follow her -

\- until he stopped himself halfway to the door, remembering that he had a job to do and a rookie to train. Whatever she was doing, whatever she'd been thinking, whatever was wrong, it would just have to wait until they were both home.

"What do you suppose _that_ was about?" Joseph asked. "That wasn't like her."

Sebastian shook his head, feeling lost and disoriented. As the seconds ticked away, he couldn't shake the terrible and overwhelming feeling that that was the last time he'd ever see his wife. He didn't know why he felt that way, and he had no reason to feel that way, but the thought haunted him for the rest of his shift and the entire rest of the evening.

Myra never came home that night.

\--

**August 27, 2012**

The entire weekend went by without any sign of or word from Myra. Her phone had been shut off every time Sebastian tried to call her, and it worried him to the point that he'd ended up calling both his brother-in-law and his mother-in-law for help. Neither of them had heard a peep from her, had no idea that she'd left, and couldn't think of anywhere she might have gone. 

Then Monday came. Sebastian left his office every half hour to go check on hers, but the result was always the same. By 11:00, Myra still wasn't in her office, and no one around the department had seen her all day. He stepped outside to have a cigarette and to call Myra's mother and brother again. Still no sign of her. That overwhelming feeling of dread from Friday crept back into Sebastian's consciousness, and this time, it didn't leave.

"Is everything alright?" Joseph asked as Sebastian came back into the office. "You've been running back and forth all morning."

Sebastian shook his head and tried to gather his thoughts. He hadn't voiced his concerns to Joseph yet, and he wasn't even sure where to start. His partner deserved to know, though - _everyone_ deserved to know. One of their own was missing, and her involvement with the Elk River disappearances couldn't be overlooked.

"Myra's gone," he said finally. "I haven't seen or heard from her in days, and she's not in her office. I just called her brother and my mother-in-law, and they don't know where she is either."

"What?" Joseph asked.

"Have you seen her at all since she left here on Friday?" Kidman asked.

"No," he said. "No, I..."

"Sebastian," Joseph said as he rose to his feet. "You don't think..."

He didn't even have to finish the sentence. Sebastian knew exactly what Joseph was going to say: _You don't think she got caught by the Elk River killer after questioning that victim's family, do you?_ The thought had been on his mind all damn weekend.

"I'm not thinking anything about anything," he said. "I'm just going to go to Murphy's office and tell him what happened. He'll probably jump to find her; she's always been his favorite. And we _will_ find her. So, stop thinking."

"Easier said than done," Joseph griped as he took his seat again. "Just be careful talking to Murphy, Seb. Myra might be his favorite, but _you're_ sure not."

Sebastian pursed his lips and shook his head again, and then he silently left the office. The entire conversation seemed to throw him off balance - it was just so strange and terrible to actually say the words aloud to people face to face - and that sort of speechless disbelief followed him all the way to the Deputy Chief's office. Murphy called him in when he knocked, and Sebastian found himself still at a loss for words.

"Castellanos," Murphy said halfway over his shoulder as he continued to dig through his pile of paperwork. "What can I do for you?"

"Myra hasn't come in for work today," he said.

"I've already made a note of that, Detective," Murphy responded, sounded wholly disinterested.

Sebastian took a breath through his nose and shook his head in order to keep himself from snapping. It wasn't the Deputy Chief's fault that he thought that Sebastian was merely announcing a work absence for his wife; they'd both done this for the other before on rare occasions.

"And I haven't seen or heard from her all weekend," Sebastian clarified. "Not since I left to go home on Friday."

Murphy rolled his chair back to the center of his desk and gave Sebastian a bored stare.

"And?" the Deputy Chief asked.

Sebastian had to take another breath. What the hell did he mean, _and?_ Officers were going missing in growing numbers lately, and now one of their top detectives was gone, too, and all the Deputy Chief had to say about it was _and?_

"And I'm reporting her as a missing person," Sebastian concluded, struggling to contain his frustration.

Deputy Chief Murphy had himself a smirk and a chuckle at that, and Sebastian had to physically restrain himself from knocking the smugness out of him. He closed his hands into fists at his sides. What part of this was meant to be funny?

"So," Murphy said, "you want us to go and find her for you. Is that it?"

"Yes," Sebastian hissed. There was a fire burning in his head.

"Not gonna happen," Murphy said. "Get back to work, Detective."

Sebastian visibly balked at that, as though Murphy's words had struck him physically. It sure as hell _felt_ like he'd just been hit by a truck, in any case. No matter _how_ much Murphy disliked him, that wasn't an excuse for just waving away a husband's concern over the disappearance of his wife - especially when that wife was an integral part of this precinct.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'not gonna happen?'" he demanded. "I'm telling you that one of your detectives is _missing_. You have an obligation to-"

"I have an _obligation,_ " Murphy cut him off, raising his voice and bounding to his feet, "to protect the detectives under my supervision - you are absolutely correct, Castellanos. Gold fucking star for you. That's _exactly_ the reason why I'm not going to call a man hunt for Myra. So get the fuck out of my office before I remove you bodily."

"What the _fuck,_ " Sebastian shouted back at him, already aware that this was reason enough for him to be written up for insubordination and decidedly not caring. "How the fuck is _not_ searching for Myra helping her in any way?"

Murphy looked like he was gearing up for another angry reprimand, but he caught himself at the last second and took a deep breath to calm himself down. He adjusted the tie at his throat and smoothed his suit jacket over his chest as he regained his composure, and Sebastian only grew more irritated just watching him. He _wanted_ this fight. If the next thing out of the Deputy Chief's mouth was anything _other_ than an agreement to search for Myra, then Sebastian was ready to fight as long and hard as it took.

"You're a piece of shit, Castellanos," Murphy explained calmly. "You know that? When Phi asked me about your work performance during their investigation, I was so tempted to ruin your good name and drag your ass so far through the mud that they wouldn't be able to recognize you anymore. I didn't do that, because the fact remains that you are one of the single best detectives I have ever seen step foot inside this department, and I need you here being the workhorse that you are.

"But make no mistake about it. You are a fucking piece of shit, and I can't stand you. IA deemed you fit to work, and you do your job well, but who the fuck knows what you do the second you leave these walls. My gut's telling me that Myra isn't _missing,_ Castellanos. I been on the force almost for the same number of years you've been alive, I've been around the block more than a few times, and I can see exactly what happened here. She _left._ She left _you_ and your joke of a marriage and went somewhere where you couldn't find her or corner her, and she was smart to do so. So, if you're in here asking me to hunt down your wife so that your drunk ass can beat and rape and possibly kill her? You can take that plea and go fuck yourself with it.

"Now get the fuck out of my office. And don't ever bother me with this bullshit again. In fact, you know what? Why don't you just go home for the rest of the day? Let yourself calm down a bit. Maybe have a few drinks, because we both know you want to. And when you come back in tomorrow, we're going to pretend like this happy little incident never happened. Got it?"

By the time Murphy's speech was finished, Sebastian had reached a point that was so far beyond rage that it actually circled back around to astonishment. He was actually paralyzed by his own anger and incredulity, and for a moment, he couldn't even react. This was the second time in three months that someone had accused him of having the intention to beat his wife - the first person to do so being _his wife._

Maybe there was something to that; maybe Murphy was right; maybe Myra really had gone into hiding to get away from him; maybe she really was that scared. The thought horrified him. He didn't know what it was about his attitude and body language lately that gave people the impression that he was some kind of horrible abuser, but it couldn't have just come from nowhere.

Could it? 

He was terrified to think that he'd lost his grip on himself to such an alarming degree, but...

_I love you, Sebastian,_ her words echoed in his head. _Don't ever be scared._

That gave him the strength to act. Without another word, Sebastian turned on his heels and stormed out of Murphy's office. A thousand thoughts raced through his head at breakneck speed - all of the evidence surrounding Myra's disappearance: her investigation, the IA investigation, Phi's cryptic tone and message, her ominous "what if" scenario from last week, her uncharacteristic kiss goodbye on Friday - and they all seemed to fit together to create one clear and solid picture in his head: Myra saw the blade at her throat and ran, but not far or fast enough. Now her disappearance was being covered up, just like Inspector Brown's was.

In spite of himself, Sebastian was immediately angry with her. If she had only just told him - if she had only just let him in enough and warned him of what she saw on the horizon - he could've helped her. Protected her. They were stronger as a team. They always had been. She was paying the ultimate price now for shutting him out...

...And yet, he couldn't find it within himself to blame her. He should've been more stubborn about it. He should've put his foot down harder. He should've found a way, should've been there, should've protected her, because he was _her husband,_ damn it. Myra wasn't some weak and delicate flower by any stretch of the imagination, but that didn't change anything. Sebastian was her husband, and it was his job to take care of her.

Just like it was her job to take care of him.

Fuck. The fire of his rage cooled to embers at the thought. If the roles were reversed, and this had been his investigation and his disappearance instead of hers, Sebastian knew that he would've shut her out the exact same way. He would've thought he was protecting her. Stupid. It sounded so fucking stupid to him now. Marriage was a partnership, and they'd both become so wrapped up in their own bullshit that they'd forgotten that. The concern of one of them protecting the other should've never even existed in the first place.

That was what was on Sebastian's mind as he headed back into his own office. Both Joseph and Kidman turned to face him the second the door opened, and it was with a heavy heart that he closed it behind him. He was shocked to hear Kidman's voice cut through the air first.

"What did Deputy Chief Murphy say?" she asked.

"He won't look for her," Sebastian told her. His words sounded distant to him; unfocused. "He thinks she left me."

"Maybe he knows something we don't," Kidman suggested.

Sebastian slowly turned his eyes to look at her, feeling his brow crease with unasked questions as he did. Kidman made him feel uneasy and suspicious on a _good_ day, but considering the circumstances now, the way she'd phrased her response sent up every single red flag inside his head.

"That doesn't make sense," Joseph piped up from the other side of the room. "Even if she left you, Myra would never abandon her work. She would've still come in today. Murphy should know that about her."

"He blamed my drinking," Sebastian told him. "He thinks that she didn't come in because she's gone into hiding. From me, specifically. He accused me of beating her."

"That's ludicrous!" Joseph balked. "What evidence does he have to lobby such an outrageous accusation against you?"

Sebastian could only sigh and shake his head. He was still in shock over the whole thing. It wasn't just Myra's disappearance or Murphy's reaction - it was both piled on top of the terrifying realization that what Myra had been investigating was _real._ Sebastian had no real proof yet, and he wouldn't do anything until he did, but it was enough to leave him spooked and shoot his nerves to all hell.

_Don't ever be scared._

"He's sending me home for the day," he said. "Wants me to calm down and think about things. Bunch of bullshit. But, either way, I have to go. You're the man in charge today, Joseph. Take care of Kidman."

He headed to his desk to pack things up, shut things down, and gather up what he needed for the drive home. A stunned, empty silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of closing drawers and papers shuffling. His car keys jingled softly as he pulled them from his pocket, and with nothing more to say, he made for the door.

"Sebastian, wait," Kidman said.

Her voice was enough to stop him, and he slowly turned to face her. There was an expression on her face that Sebastian couldn't quite recognize - something in the general vicinity of sympathy, regret, and also determination. It was a strange combination, to be sure, and it was also the most emotion she'd shown him since her assignment as his trainee.

"I know that we haven't known each other very long," she said, "but, for what it's worth, I hope your wife is okay. I hope you find her."

Surprisingly, it was worth _a lot_ coming from her. Sebastian had been semi-convinced that Kidman wasn't capable of normal human emotion - or, at the very least, that she didn't give a shit about him or Joseph on a personal or sometimes even a professional level. To hear her talk like this now hit on someplace sensitive inside him. The thought floated into his mind that maybe he'd been too hard on her; maybe she was just socially awkward, and he'd been haranguing her unfairly for her seeming disinterest. He'd have to ease up on her a little from now on.

"Thanks, Kidman," he said. "I'll be back tomorrow, no matter what happens. So, stay focused, because this doesn't change a damn thing around here."

She nodded once. "Alright."

Sebastian looked back at Joseph then, who seemed to be mentally preparing himself for his day ahead as Kidman's sole teacher and supervisor. It was probably going to be an interesting day for the both of them, without Sebastian there as a buffer. He wasn't stupid; he'd seen the way Joseph caught glimpses at Kidman's legs or chest when he thought she wasn't looking.

Normally, it drove him crazy. Any time he thought about Joseph and Kidman together in any real tangible sense, it got under his skin and revolted him. It wasn't _jealousy_ , as Myra had suggested. It was just concern - worry for his friend due to his mistrust of Kidman. He didn't want to see Joseph get his heart broken, or to have something even worse happen to him.

But not today. It was a lot easier for him to ignore that shit when he had bigger things to worry about. In fact, the thought of Joseph trying to awkwardly stumble his way through his self-inflicted sexual tension while struggling to retain a professional demeanor may have been the only thing worth smiling about today. The mental image of it was so ridiculous as to be hilarious.

"Oh, and," Sebastian tacked on, "the two of you try not to fuck on my desk while I'm gone. I'll know if you did."

That gave Joseph a bit of a start, and he jumped slightly in his chair as though he'd just choked on his own saliva. Kidman only looked away sheepishly. A tiny grin split Sebastian's face as he turned and left.

It was short-lived at best. Almost immediately after Sebastian closed the door behind him, his smile faded, and all of his mirth went with it. 

The drive home was long and lonely. For some reason, it reminded him of the drive he'd made to his old house on the day of the fire. He wasn't quite sure why; that drive had been done at 90 and in his police vehicle, not his personal car. The general feeling was the same, he supposed. That strange, distant, dissociative sensation was back - the cognitive dissonance of being somewhat aware that he'd just lost a major part of himself and a major part of his life, while at the same time refusing to accept it as a conscious fact.

It wasn't until he actually got home that the full enormity of the situation sank in. He stood in the front hallway after he untied his shoes and left them at the door, and the empty silence of the house smothered him.

This was what his life was going to be like from now on. It was just going to be him alone in this cavernous nothingness that he called a home. The normal sounds that should've been filling this place would never, ever reside here again. Never again would he experience the sometimes exhausting chaos of chasing Lily around the house to try to get her into the bath or into bed for the night. He wouldn't ever come home to Myra grinning and looking smug about the fact that she'd beaten him there. No more family dinners, no more romantic date nights in while Joseph took Lily for the night, no more laughter or warmth or love or life.

Just Sebastian. That was all that was left.

He could feel his throat begin to swell and close. This house was too big for him. Myra had only been gone for a few days, but the thought that he may never see her again was crippling. He fell to his knees and cradled his head in his hands. He'd been so caught up over these past few months in his own misery and bullshit and some stupid schoolboy crush on Joseph that shouldn't have even existed in the first place - and because of what? Because Joseph had shown him a bit of kindness following a tragedy? That was what friends were _supposed_ to do. In the midst of it all, he hadn't been able to see this coming, hadn't noticed Myra slipping away from him, hadn't been aware enough to stand up and be by her side when she needed him most.

Sebastian was alone now, and it was no one's fault but his own. Worse yet, he couldn't find it within himself to be worried about the idea that whoever had gone after Lily and taken Myra could be coming for him next. Let them come. He'd welcome them with open arms at this point. It would at least give him someone to blame, someone to fight, someone to direct this anger and sorrow at other than himself.

His breath stuttered on his next inhale, and the exhale that followed came out as a pathetic sob. He didn't even try to stop himself. Sebastian stayed there on the floor with his head in his hands as he began to cry. It wasn't villains lurking in the shadows that scared him. It was his own loneliness, and it was staring him right in the face. 

Even now, he could still hear Myra's voice in his head.

_Don't ever be scared._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew. That was a long one. Normally I don't like pop culture references in my fanfiction, but I saw the opportunity to foreshadow the events of the main game by comparing STEM to the Red Room in Twin Peaks, and I took it. I'm just a sucker for dramatic irony, and I can't help myself. Also, what do I win for successfully including the words "the evil within" in Myra's dialogue? ;)
> 
> With Myra out of the story now, the last two chapters are going to be heavily Joseph-centric, though her presence will still be felt in the text. We're quickly approaching the end, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you're as excited as I am. Chapter 6 (Autumn) will launch on Christmas Day, and the finale in Chapter 7 (Winter) will hit you guys on New Year's Eve. This is my holiday gift to you, fandom, as your friendly neighborhood Reform Jew who is entirely too pissed off about having to work every single holiday of every year. I just want to spread some cheer somehow. With this depressing fanfiction. Err... maybe I should rethink my strategy.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Everyone. Seriously, thank you. Still accepting constructive criticism, and all of your comments are so unbelievably appreciated. Thank you so much, and happy holidays.


	6. Autumn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start, it bears mentioning that I always had it in my head that Krimson City was in the northeastern US. The geography of the map looks extremely similar to Boston, but the architecture of the buildings looks like it was ripped straight from New York City. So, I compromised and stuck it right in between the two of them. The only reason this is important is because of dumb sports jargon in this chapter. Sorry in advance to any fans of the New England Patriots for this chapter. (No I'm not. Well, I am. But I'm not. Hey, I'm allowed to project some of myself onto my favorite characters, too.)
> 
> I'm going to give you guys a fair warning right here: there's a small bit of homophobic and racist hatespeech written in this chapter. Specifically the October 14 scene. Just a heads up. I tried to handle it with as much grace and dignity as I could manage, but that's not an excuse for not warning ahead of time. I'm not out to upset or blindside anyone.
> 
> The official theme song for this chapter is "Long Day" by Matchbox Twenty (yes I know we already had an MB20 theme song, but it's not my fault that Rob Thomas is always relevant).

**September 1, 2012**

Things had been going so well in August that Sebastian barely drank - "barely" in this situation meaning that he only drank on nineteen of the thirty-one days and had only gotten truly drunk on six of them. On the first of September - the first Saturday since Myra's disappearance - he more than made up for all the lost time.

Sebastian hadn't been this completely and thoroughly wasted since college. The night of his first big fight with Myra seemed like child's play compared to how hammered he was right now - he'd seemed _sober_ in comparison. He'd had so much to drink that he ended up spending an entire hour in the bathroom at one point, because he'd gone in there to take a piss and couldn't find the strength or balance to leave when he was done. He just sat on the floor with his back against the wall until he was able to clamor his way back to the couch. He hadn't gotten up again since.

The whiskey hadn't helped, but it also hadn't made things worse. He couldn't escape himself. No matter how far or how fast he ran, he always caught up with himself. The whiskey managed to put some distance there, but he could always feel the shadow of sobriety and self-awareness looming over him, threatening to swallow him whole.

In this case, sobriety didn't mean a return to sorrow; his sorrow had never left him to begin with. Sobriety meant a return to responsibility. It meant having to put on a face and act like he wasn't completely hollowed out behind that mask. It meant having to be productive and move forward with the mundane, tedious chores and tasks that came with being an adult - worries that seemed so fucking inconsequential and petty when pitted against the overwhelming melancholy that sometimes made it hard to breathe.

He just wanted to be self-indulgent in his pain, even if just for a little while. Just losing himself in it was a comfort all on its own, as counterintuitive as that may have seemed. There was a certain sense of satisfaction and vindication that came with wrapping himself in his misery and hiding beneath it like a security blanket. At the very least, it sure beat the hell out of pretending like it wasn't there at all. It was the cruelest sense of irony to think that he'd spent the last few months wishing he could leave Myra behind, but now that she was gone, all he wanted was to have her back.

He didn't stop the tears when they came. It was a strange sort of crying - one that didn't come accompanied with exaggerated breaths or pitiful sobs. Only the tears were present. They slipped from the corners of his eyes without warning and without his consent, like he'd sprung a leak that he didn't know how to plug.

That was the position he'd been in for the past he didn't know how long. Sebastian just lie across the cushions of the couch with his head on one of the armrests and an arm slung across his eyes. His cheeks were still wet, and the exposed skin around the bend of his elbow was even wetter, but he didn't give even the remotest of shits.

When Joseph's voice hit his ears, he thought he should have been surprised or confused - he and Joseph hadn't spoken outside of the office since the IA incident, and Sebastian hadn't even heard the front door open - but he was so unbelievably drunk that he accepted it without question.

"Seb?"

Joseph didn't sound angry or upset at all, and it didn't even seem like he was winding up for a lecture. Sebastian was too far out of his mind to pinpoint exactly what it was that he heard in his partner's voice, but if he had to toss a dart and take a guess, he actually would have said that the thought Joseph sounded afraid. It was a strange thing to hear from him.

"Seb, hey," his partner said. His nervousness was becoming more and more apparent. "Talk to me. How are you feeling? Are you alright?"

Sebastian didn't have the faintest idea of how to answer that question, and it almost seemed callous of Joseph to expect him to. He took a deep breath in through his nose, and his chest trembled as he exhaled out his mouth. Great. Fuck. Leave it to Joseph to make things worse - leave it to him to push simple tears into something resembling a full-fledged cry. At a loss of what else to say or do, Sebastian merely shook his head "no" across the pillow of the armrest, hoping that that was a satisfactory enough answer.

"That good, huh?" Joseph asked, struggling pathetically beneath the awkward humorlessness of his own joke. He took a second to compose himself. "How much have you had to drink?"

Sebastian merely shook his head again. He didn't know, and he didn't want to talk about it even if he did. Talking about it - drunk or sober - was another form of responsibility that he wanted to avoid. It involved confronting his sadness - putting words to it, giving it a face. He wasn't ready to do that yet.

"Well, you're still conscious," Joseph said. "That's a good sign, at least. Have you eaten anything?"

"Joseph," Sebastian croaked, barely finding his voice. "Fuck off."

"If I had a dollar for every time I heard that..." Joseph sighed.

His partner took a seat at the very edge of the couch as best he could with Sebastian taking up most of it. At the smallest part of his waist, there was just enough room for him to fit. Anyone bigger than Joseph wouldn't have been able to.

"I've never seen you this drunk before, Seb," he said after a time. "Not even at your bachelor party - and you were _pretty_ drunk that night. If you don't want to talk to me, and if you won't eat anything, then will you at least let me help you upstairs and get you into bed? Surely that's better than passing out down here."

It was only then that Sebastian removed his arm from across his brow and dropped it back down to his side. The whole world was a distant, faded blur, and Joseph almost looked as a stranger to him. Maybe it was just the liquor clouding his thoughts and judgments, but Joseph seemed _too_ casual today - too dressed down compared to how Sebastian normally saw him. He looked ten years younger at least - way closer to twenty than thirty - just due to his simple state of dress. Blue jeans and an open-zip hoodie over a tshirt - clothes that would've looked normal on anyone else, but on Joseph, they made him look like a completely different person.

No. No, wait. That was wrong. It wasn't the clothes. Sebastian had seen him dressed down like that pretty regularly, back when they still acted like the friends they were supposed to be. It was his hair. His normal brushed-back and immaculate hairstyle was pulled loose and out of place, possibly by him running his hands through it in worry or frustration one too many times. The only other time Sebastian had seen Joseph with his hair mussed (other than early mornings on the rare occasion one or both of them had been too drunk to drive home) was the one and only physical altercation he'd ever had with a suspect.

As drunk as he was, Sebastian could still see the memory clearly in his mind. He'd just been gearing up to jump in and break up the fight by the time Joseph had already grounded the guy - which had only taken two very impressive hits that betrayed just how dangerous his passive, unassuming, small-framed partner could be. It was the image of him afterwards that stuck out in Sebastian's mind. Joseph's glasses had been knocked off during the fight. When he stood victorious, he had a look about him that was fierce and wild-eyed, his clothes slightly bedraggled and his hair tousled down across his forehead.

That had been years ago - before the fire, before the rift in Sebastian's marriage and everything that followed - and even back then, he had a vivid memory of being unbelievably turned on by the sight. It was the first time he'd ever looked at Joseph as any kind of sexual creature. In some of his weaker and most private moments, Sebastian was ashamed to have recalled that image to his mind's eye, wondering what it would be like to rile Joseph up like that himself - to see his hair pulled loose like that and that fire burning in his eyes as his chest heaved with airless breaths - as he sweat and moaned and and cursed and called out Sebastian's name -

"Sebastian? Are you still with me?"

Sebastian cleared his throat and turned his attention towards the ceiling. He would never be drunk enough to betray those kinds of thoughts to Joseph. It would take something way stronger than liquor, and possibly stronger than any drug, to get him to admit to something like that.

"Yeah," he grunted. He'd already forgotten the original question, if there'd even been one.

"Do you want me to help you upstairs or not?" Joseph asked.

Oh. That was it.

Sebastian hesitated for a second and then nodded silently. As much as he didn't want to be bugged or bothered, the truth was that he'd been longing for the comfort of his own bed for probably a few hours now, but he knew that there was just no way that he'd be able to operate a staircase.

Joseph moved to help him without further comment or fuss. The hardest part for Sebastian was trying to sit upright. The hardest part for Joseph was probably maneuvering him off of the couch. Once he was up, though, the walk to the stairs, up the stairs, and into the bedroom was simple enough, if exceptionally slow. Joseph had to support nearly all of Sebastian's weight as they walked, and the worst part was that Sebastian was still aware enough to know it. He could feel gravity pressing down on him, felt the weakness in his legs, and he understood with crystal clarity that if Joseph were to pull away, he would collapse like a worthless sack.

Wasn't that what Myra had called him? A depressed sack of shit? Maybe she was right.

Sebastian crumpled as he rolled and landed on the bed. His mattress was far cozier than he ever remembered it being, and just lying on it made him feel better. More secure. Joseph suggested he strip down to get more comfortable - drunk sweats were the worst - and while Sebastian agreed with him, he was only able to get his shirt halfway over his head before his elbows and shoulders got stuck and he ended up trapped inside of it. With a bit of a sigh, his partner came to his aid and rescued him from his prison, and Joseph didn't even need to be asked before moving to his pants. 

Sebastian's eyes followed the movements of Joseph's hands with attention that was probably a little too rapt, a little too focused, but he couldn't help himself. This was something that he'd never get a chance to experience again. Even though it was a wholly innocent and purely helpful gesture, Sebastian committed to memory the sight of Joseph tugging at the button of his jeans and unzipping the fly, and he suppressed a shiver as his partner pulled his pants over his hips and down his legs, removing them completely and leaving him only in his boxer-briefs.

Fucking hell. Sebastian was supposed to be mourning the loss of his wife, and he was still pissed off at Joseph for betraying his trust and going behind his back, but still those stupid warm affections for him wouldn't go away. It wasn't fair.

_Would you let him stand with you, if you couldn't stand on your own?_

Sebastian cursed and grumbled and rolled over onto his stomach, trying to shut out the sound of Myra's voice in his head. He didn't want to think about that right now, and he _definitely_ didn't want to consider the possibility that Myra had been expecting her disappearance long in advance. Right now, all he wanted to do was wait for the world to settle and stop spinning. It felt like his head was detached from the rest of his body - like the booze had take up physical presence in his skull and his brain was floating in it.

Joseph grabbed the tiny trash can from the corner of the room and placed it on the floor beside the bed, as close to the pillows as he could. Sebastian watched him out of the corner of one eye as he then took a seat on the edge of the mattress, just the same as he'd done on the couch.

"C'mon, Joseph," he muttered. "You know 'm not a puker."

"Better safe than sorry," Joseph said. "Like I said, I've never seen you this bad."

"Why're you even here?" Sebastian muttered.

"I've been trying to get a hold of you all morning," Joseph said, "and afternoon, but your phone's been turned off all day. With Myra going missing, can you really blame me for being worried?"

"You really still think I'm gonna kill myself," Sebastian said. "I'm _not_ , Joseph."

"No, Seb, it isn't that," Joseph told him. "I was more worried that whatever got her might have gotten you, too. Even at your worst, you never turned your phone completely off. I admit that I started to panic a bit as the day dragged on."

The liquor hadn't shut off the analytical detective's side of Sebastian's brain - at least, not completely - and something about the way Joseph said that caught his attention. _What_ ever had gotten Myra - not _who_ ever. Interesting.

"I forgot to charge it last night," Sebastian said honestly, "then didn't care in the morning. Still don't really care. Let it stay dead."

Joseph didn't say anything in response to that; all he had to offer was a mild look of disapproval. That was all fine by Sebastian. He still didn't really want to talk - especially not about Myra's disappearance or his own reclusiveness - and this conversation was already getting too heavy for him. He pulled his pillow down closer to his shoulder, resting his head against the far end of it and holding the other down near his chest. It gave better support to his neck that way.

"Do you want me to go?" Joseph asked. "You seem to be alright - at least, well enough - and I'm sure that I'm the last person you-"

"No," Sebastian cut him off. "No. No. No. Don't. Stay."

It was a total contradiction from telling him to fuck off not five minutes earlier, but now that he was used to Joseph's presence, he didn't want him to go. The oppressive emptiness of the house would fill his place, and that was five thousand times worse than having Joseph here talking at him about his health and well-being.

Though, it seemed like his partner was done talking for now. Sebastian closed his eyes as silence fell between them, because it was the good kind of silence for a change. The comfortable kind. The kind of silence that was exclusive to being with Joseph, and not the kind of silence that came from the hollow loneliness of the empty house.

Seconds became minutes, though Sebastian was too drunk to say how many. Enough that he felt like he should've fallen asleep by now, but something was holding him back. He was too drunk, maybe - too off balance to get comfortable enough - and yet still not drunk enough to just pass out. Maybe he could have if he hadn't taken the arduous journey up the stairs, but now that he had, his body was still under the impression that it was needed for something.

His partner seemed to be under the impression that he either was or should have been sleeping, too, because in the next moment, Sebastian felt his fingertips idly brush a few strands of hair away from his forehead. Joseph's touch then fell to his back, where he drew slow, small circles with the palm of his hand. Sebastian's heart fluttered in his chest as a nervous thrill coursed through him. He did everything he could to beat it back, telling himself that it meant nothing and it was just Joseph being Joseph and worrying about him, but the feeling persisted.

"You'd make a great dad, Joseph," Sebastian muttered tiredly. "You should get on that, one of these days."

Joseph tensed and hesitated at having just gotten caught, but he went ahead and resumed what he was doing a second later. Sebastian was grateful for that much; he didn't want Joseph to rescind his touch. Not now, not ever.

"I'm sure my mother would agree with you," Joseph said. "I can't seem to have a conversation with her at all these days without the topic of grandchildren coming up at least once. The only problem is that it's going to take more than just me to have a child."

"Maybe 's time to settle," Sebastian said. "I seen you eyein' Kidman."

"Kidman?" Joseph asked, seeming honestly surprised by the suggestion.

"I seen it, Joseph," he slurred. "The way you look at her when you think she's not lookin'. I seen it, and I know it, 'cause it's the same looks I used to give Myra back in the day. I dunno if she ever caught me, but I still did it."

"Kidman..." Joseph started, struggling for words, "... _is_ attractive. I won't deny that I do steal a glance at her every once in a while, but I'm really not interested in her like that."

"Why? 'Cause she's your rookie?"

"Not just because she's my subordinate," Joseph said, "though that would keep me from pursuing her even if I was interested. She just isn't my type."

"Really?" Sebastian asked. "'Cause I figured she's exactly your type. Quiet, observant, pain in the ass. Just like you."

Joseph chuckled softly at that. "No. I prefer women who, at the very least, appreciate my sense of humor. I don't think I've ever even seen Kidman smile once yet."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, she's weird. I dunno. Nice, I guess, but weird, when she's not being a pain in my ass. Wish she'd stop lookin' at me like I'm her fuckin' science project and givin' me the stink-eye when I don't follow every single step in procedure. Anyway, Joseph, point is, you're not gettin' any younger."

"Believe me, I'm aware," he said. "Thirty was a brutal wake-up call. Unfortunately for my mother and any children she wants me to have, though, the only person I've had eyes for at all over the past few years has been a man."

Sebastian hesitated at that, already feeling the nervous pangs of envy tug at his heart. This certainly was news to him - not that Joseph was the type to go around shouting to the world about some new guy he met in the first place, but it still would've been nice to be keyed in _before_ he'd made the dumbass decision to kiss him.

"Really?" he asked. "Who is he? How come you haven't told me about him before?"

"I didn't tell you," Joseph said, "and I'm _still_ not going to tell you now, because he's not exactly your favorite person in the world, and the last thing I want to do is sow the seeds of discord."

"I'm not gonna make it weird," he assured him, "or tell him or anything, I mean, come on, Joseph. We're too old for that kind of bullshit."

"Sorry, Seb," Joseph told him, "there are just some things I need to keep to myself."

That wasn't a good enough answer. Sebastian was starting to feel incredibly petty and vindictive on top of being jealous. This was bullshit. Joseph couldn't just bring this up and then not tell him about it; that wasn't how things worked.

"What's so great about this guy, anyway?" he asked. "If I don't like him, there's probably a reason. He's probably a fucking asshole."

"Oh, he is," Joseph said. "I have no illusions about it. But he has his good points, too, and the good points more than outweigh the bad."

"As in...?"

"Well," Joseph sighed. "I don't think I've ever met a person in my life I've respected more. He makes me want to succeed and continue to succeed and constantly better myself. He just has that effect on people in general. He's always demanding the best of them, and never fails to bring it himself, but he also recognizes people's limits and accepts and supports them once he's seen them reach their maximum. There's this overwhelming kindness and understanding at his core that I can't honestly say exists in most people, as cynical as that might sound."

"I thought you said he was a fucking asshole," Sebastian pointed out.

"Well, he's also stubborn, pig-headed, impulsive, reckless, short-sighted, and has the self-awareness of a three-year-old," Joseph said. "He's very set in his ways and close-minded when it comes to a lot of things in life, and it's exhausting to keep up with sometimes. It also doesn't help that he thinks he's always right. But, once you get past that, he's very strong and intelligent and compassionate and warm, and he has a protective streak a mile long. He's the kind of person who makes you feel safe just to be around, because you can always rely on him to come through for you and do whatever needs to be done." 

He sighed softly and shook his head then, suddenly looking extremely remorseful. 

"Sometimes all I want is for you to be able to see those things in him, too, Seb," he concluded.

Sebastian huffed and readjusted the pillow beneath his head again. The last thing he wanted to be hearing about right now was how Joseph wanted him to accept and approve of his stupid crush. Now that his partner had described the guy in better detail, it came as no wonder that Sebastian didn't like him. Whoever this guy was, he sounded exactly like the type of person that he just couldn't stand. He didn't care _how_ many virtues the guy had; it didn't negate the fact that he was still a _fucking asshole._

"If this guy's so fucking great," he said, "then why haven't you made a move yet?"

"Because he already has someone," Joseph told him, "and the worst part is that I can't even bring myself to feel resentful about it. They're perfect for each other. I'm not sure I've ever seen two people more in love. Not even my own parents."

Sebastian gave him a discriminating glare from the corner of his eyes. "Not even me n' Myra?"

Joseph chuckled again and gave a tiny shake of his head, though Sebastian couldn't tell if it was to say no or if it was just in disbelief over the question.

"The fuck?" he asked. "I know shit's been rough lately, but Jesus, Joseph, you don't need to _laugh_ at me about it."

"That's not what I'm laughing at," Joseph said. "I'm just... relieved to hear that you still think that of your marriage and feel that way about your wife. The way you were talking about divorce few months ago scared me. I'd hate to see you and Myra split up."

"But we _did_ split up," Sebastian said sadly. "That's why 'm hammered in the first place, if you didn't know. She's gone, Joseph. And I dunno where, and I dunno if she even _wants_ to be found. I fucked it up. I blew it."

"Myra's disappearance isn't your fault, Sebastian," Joseph said sternly, "and I'm confident when I say that I'm certain that she didn't leave you."

"At least one of us is," he mumbled into his pillow.

Joseph didn't argue or beleaguer the point, and for that, Sebastian was grateful. They were creeping too close to the territory of him having to talk about his feelings again, and he knew that he would shut down and give up if they ever crossed that line. Instead, all Joseph did was give a tiny sigh and remove his hand from Sebastian's back in order to thread his fingers through his hair, affectionately massaging his scalp at the back of his head. Sebastian closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling himself relax immediately beneath the tenderness of his partner's touch.

"Get some sleep, Sebastian," Joseph said gently. "You'll feel better in the morning. I promise."

"Will you be here when I wake up?" he asked.

"Do you want me to be here?"

"Yes."

"Then I will," Joseph assured him. "I'll be right here with you the whole time. So, sleep easy."

He did.

\--

**September 2, 2012**

It was 3:00 in the morning when Sebastian reluctantly dragged himself into consciousness. He'd only gotten about five hours of sleep, and those hours had been poor and dreamless at best, but at least he _had_ managed to sleep. With a tiny groan, he reached over and turned on the lamp beside his bed, bathing the room in a cold, dim yellow light.

He was still feeling slightly drunk and extremely groggy, despite having stopped drinking about eight hours ago. It was a true testament to just how unbelievably blasted he'd been. Not something he planned on repeating - but then again, nothing in his life seemed to go according to plan anymore.

He rolled over onto his back and glanced towards the opposite side of the bed. It was with muted and mild surprise that he saw Joseph lying there beside him, curled up in his day clothes and settled in on top of the covers, facing away from him as he slept. So, his partner had really kept his word and stayed. Part of Sebastian had expected him to be gone in the morning, if for no other reason than it'd sounded like an empty parent's promise when he said he would. Lily used to ask him to stay with her through the night after she'd had a nightmare, and he always promised that he would, but he'd go right back to bed himself once he was sure she'd fallen asleep.

There was something kind of guilt-inducing about seeing Joseph sleeping in the state he was, though. Sebastian reached over and tugged at the hood of his partner's sweatshirt in order to rouse his attention and wake him up. Joseph slowly flopped over onto his back and blearily blinked awake. It was fairly obvious that he hadn't really been sleeping soundly, either.

"Seb?" he asked quietly. "Is everything okay?"

"No," he said. "If you're going to stay here, Joseph, the least you can do is make yourself comfortable."

Joseph gave a tired, half-hearted smile at that. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Bullshit," Sebastian said. "If you want something to sleep in, I can give you something. At the very least, get under the fucking covers."

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?" Joseph asked.

"No," Sebastian said. "I'm not."

With an exaggerated sigh, Joseph pushed himself up into a sitting position and began to tug at the sleeves of his hoodie. Sebastian followed suit, rolling out of bed and sleepily wandering over towards his dresser for something suitable for his partner to sleep in. He eventually managed to fish out a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring waist and a loose tshirt. Joseph was going to end up swimming in any article of clothing that Sebastian gave him, but hopefully the drawstring would help mitigate the damage. He tossed both pieces onto the bed as Joseph reached behind his own shoulders to grab at the fabric of his shirt and pull it up over his head.

"I'm going to go take a shower," Sebastian announced. "I'm fucking gross. Don't wait up for me. Turn that light off if you want."

Joseph rose to his feet and began to fold his shirt, because of course he would see the need to fold his damn shirt. He nodded once in affirmation and gave a quick "okay," and Sebastian took that as his cue to exit.

A hot shower was just what the doctor ordered. The steam cleared his senses and made him feel more lucid, and he felt less pathetic as soon as the water hit his skin and washed away the sweat and whiskey from the day before.

He remembered everything. Well, _almost_ everything. There were tiny patches of time here and there that were nothing but empty holes in his memory, but for the most part, Sebastian recalled every touch, every action, and every word spoken. Joseph had taken care of him as though he was a sickly child - which was fair, because that wasn't far off from the reality of how he'd been acting.

But there were other things, too - other things that stood out in his memory and itched at the back of his mind. Joseph's confession about having feelings for another man was chief among them. It could have been _anyone,_ based on the description he gave, and not having a name or a face to it was what pissed Sebastian off the most. Not that it would've mattered either way. No matter what, one thing was for damn sure: whoever it was, it sure as fuck wasn't him.

The rejection was damn near unbearable.

Sebastian had no right to feel this way. Joseph hadn't _rejected_ him, and there was absolutely no chance in hell of them ever having a relationship in the first place. For god's sake, Sebastian was still _married;_ Myra's disappearance wasn't an annulment, a divorce, or a widowing. Still, it made the sting of their kiss that much more profound - it tore open that wound and rubbed salt in it. When Joseph kissed him back, had he been thinking about that other man?

He tried not to think about it - tried not to take it personally. Sebastian finished up with his shower and wandered back into his bedroom. Joseph had left the light on, but he was back in bed - _under_ the covers this time - and curled up on his side just as he'd been when Sebastian first woke up. His clothes had been folded and placed on the floor beside the bed in a neat pile.

Sebastian toweled himself off and stepped into a fresh pair of boxers, completely unperturbed by his partner's presence in the room. It looked like Joseph might have already fallen back asleep, but even if he hadn't, it still didn't matter. It wasn't the first time they'd changed in front of each other, and it wouldn't be the last.

He flicked off the light as he crawled back into bed, and he felt Joseph stir beside him. His partner rolled over onto his back and squinted at him, struggling to see clearly in the dark without the aid of his glasses.

"Wake me up again if you need anything," he said. "That's why I'm here, okay?"

Typical Joseph. Typical over-concerned, state-the-obvious Joseph. If only Sebastian hadn't known him for as long as he did, he might've been confused and put off by the fact that his partner felt the need to say that now, even after all that'd happened. 

Beyond that, nothing moved. Nothing was said between them. After a few dragging seconds, Sebastian huffed and rolled over onto his side. Fuck it; he could blame this on the whiskey later. He closed the gap between them, threw an arm around his partner, and pulled him in close, repositioning the both of them slightly so that Joseph's back was pressed against his chest.

"Shut up, Joseph," he murmured against his ear as a late response.

Much to his surprise, Joseph reached up and covered his hand with his own. A whisper of a laugh escaped his throat.

"Good night, Seb," he replied, a shade of amusement coloring his voice.

Sebastian let out a heavy breath as he relaxed, cuddling up against Joseph a little closer and nuzzling the tip of his nose against the back of his neck. For now, he could allow himself to pretend. He could drink in the closeness he and Joseph shared in that moment - he could lie to himself and allow himself to believe that this was how things were meant to be. Even though his wife was missing, his daughter was dead, and he was harboring feelings for a man who would never return them, just for now, just for tonight, he could close his eyes and pretend like _this_ \- the man in his arms and the affection he felt - was what was real, and that his loneliness was nothing more than a passing nightmare.

\--

**September 17, 2012**

Sebastian looked down at the wedding band on his left hand and fingered it with his right. It was his seventh wedding anniversary, and his wife was still missing. He'd decided not to drink tonight, because he knew that Myra wouldn't have wanted him to. It was the least he could do for her. Unfortunately, it left him sober and silent with his own thoughts and memories of days long past and dread for the days to come.

Back then, everyone thought they were crazy. He'd proposed only a month after they started dating, and they were married six months after that. Their relationship had been electric from the time they shook hands on his first day as a detective. There had been more than just sexual tension between them, though; the concern and honest affection he felt for her was just as strong and demanding as anything else had been. 

When she'd been shot on that day so many years ago, Sebastian couldn't remember having ever been so completely terrified in his life - at least, not up until that point. The fear had been utterly paralyzing, and all he could think about was saving her, holding her, being there for her. Even now, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to survive seeing something like that happen ever again. He'd been spared that much with Lily, at least - he never had to _watch_ her suffer.

In the days and weeks to follow, he'd been over at her apartment damn near every day, caring for her and doting on her and cooking her meals. If it hadn't been apparent before how he felt about her, he was sure that it must've been obvious during that window of time.

Thinking about it now, his brain drew immediate parallels to the way Joseph had been taking care of _him_ in recent months. Sure, Joseph wasn't over _every day,_ or even every week, but still...

Sebastian sighed a heavy sigh and sank further into the couch. This was stupid. It was so fucking stupid how his thoughts automatically floated over towards Joseph when he'd wanted to just sit and reminisce about the good times with his wife. He almost felt like he was self-parodying at this point - like this was some kind of terrible, cruel joke he was playing on himself and couldn't escape from.

He dropped his touch from his wedding ring to the button of his pants. It came free with a simple tug, and then he went to work on the zipper. Just like a fucking stupid teenager. If he hadn't been so completely despondent, he might have been mad at himself. That same hand then slipped beneath the waistband of his boxer-briefs, where he gently traced his touch along the length of his shaft before wrapping his fingers around it. A tiny sigh of relief escaped his lips as he pulled his cock out and slowly began to stroke it to hardness. He was sluggish and lazy with his motions, already feeling cowed and ashamed at what he was doing. But without the whiskey, it was the only thing that managed to clear that annoying buzzing from his mind.

Happy fucking anniversary.

\--

**October 12, 2012**

Friday. Thank god. Anything over the course of this weekend that didn't involve booze or football was just going to have to wait until Monday, as far as Sebastian was concerned. It hadn't been a particularly arduous week in and of itself, but as the days piled on further and further away from the last time he saw Myra, they were getting harder and harder to deal with. It was only by sheer force of will that Sebastian even gave a shit about football at all this season; the only thing that really held his attention and kept drawing him back to the sport was that it was an excuse to get riled up about something other than the usual bullshit in his life.

He, Joseph, and Kidman had only just barely made it out to the parking lot when Joseph lagged behind a half-step.

"Sebastian, hold up a second."

Both Sebastian and Kidman stopped and turned around to face him, even though Joseph hadn't called for Kidman's attention. His partner was clearly holding something in his hand - something small enough to fit comfortably in his palm - but whatever it was, Sebastian couldn't make it out.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Joseph said. "Everything's fine. It's just... Well, if I don't see you this weekend, I wanted to give you this now. For your birthday."

"It's your birthday?" Kidman asked.

"Not until Sunday," Sebastian told her. He turned his attention back to Joseph. "You really didn't have to-"

"No, I did," he cut him off. "I've been holding onto this for a while, actually, waiting for the right time to give it to you. I figured there'd be no better time than this."

Joseph made the motion to hand over whatever it was, and Sebastian met him halfway, extending his arm to accept the unexpected gift. His partner's hand hovered over his own a few inches, and then after a second, he loosened his grip and dangled it low enough for Sebastian to touch.

For a few solid seconds, Sebastian forgot how to breathe.

"My grandfather's cross," he whispered incredulously. He tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat as he curled his fingers around the pendant and pulled it into his palm. "Joseph, how did you..."

"I picked it up," he said, "after you threw it to the ground the night of the fire. I thought that you might want it back some day, regardless of whether or not you'd lost your faith. It's still a memento from your grandfather, if nothing else."

There were no words that Sebastian could say that would rightly capture the enormity of what Joseph had just done for him. In a time when Sebastian was losing literally everything and everyone around him, and he was falling further and further away from the man he'd once been, Joseph had found a way to give a little piece of that back to him. He truly didn't believe in God anymore - didn't give a shit about the church or the faith, and he was convinced that there was no worse hell than the one he was living in right now - but this cross wasn't just a symbol of faith. It was a symbol of life as it had been before the fire. Sometimes, it was so damn hard for Sebastian to remember a time in his life that he'd ever been happy. The mere sight of this cross brought all those memories rushing back at once.

He took a moment to just stand there and drink in the sight of the thing. The cross was silver and inlaid with gold, and it looked like it'd been polished since the last time he'd seen it. Joseph also seemed to have invested in a new chain for it as well, since Sebastian had broken his old one when he tore it off of his neck. His shoulders shook on his next exhale, and he closed his fist around the pendant as he looked back up at his partner.

He forgave him. It was clear in that moment. It would still be a sore spot in their friendship, and Sebastian would never forget what had happened or be over it completely, but he knew with complete certainty that he forgave Joseph for the IA incident. It was an enormous relief from an enormous burden. They could finally move forward.

"I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries by doing this," Joseph said. "I just wanted to-"

"No," Sebastian cut him off. "No, you're not."

A faint smile touched at Joseph's lips as he adjusted his glasses. Sebastian felt like he should've said something else, but the words just wouldn't come. Words were useless, anyway. Instead, he took a step forward and pulled his partner into a tight hug. Joseph returned it with a grip just as firm as the one he got, and they simply held one another like that for a few lingering seconds.

"Thank you, Joseph," Sebastian murmured just loud enough for his partner to hear.

"Happy birthday, Seb," Joseph returned.

Sebastian gave Joseph a friendly clap on the shoulder as they parted, and the small smiles they passed back and forth were genuine. It felt good to have a moment like this again, where it was just warmth and friendship between them with nothing else muddying the waters. For the first time in what felt like forever, Sebastian felt honestly, truly normal. He could remember exactly what and who he'd been before everything in the world went to hell, even if he wasn't quite the same person anymore.

"Giants game this Sunday," he said. "We should call a cab and go out for a drink and watch it. We haven't done that yet this season."

He half expected Joseph to give him shit and put his foot down with a lecture about how Sebastian shouldn't be drinking _at all_ anymore - especially not on a work night - but he didn't. As a matter of fact, Joseph actually seemed to be honestly touched by the offer, and he had to take a moment to compose himself. It was the first time since before the fire that Sebastian had ever offered to willingly leave his house for the sake of enjoying himself - much less invited Joseph to come along with him.

"I'll be there with bells on," Joseph said. "Maybe it's time I ought to invest in a jersey finally, too."

"Now's the time to do it," Sebastian told him. "You need to show your colors while we defend our title as Super Bowl champs."

A grin split Joseph's face and he readjusted the frames of his glasses over the bridge of his nose. "I'll see what I can find. We're already six weeks into the season. Too far from the start of it, but not yet close enough to the playoffs for most stores to have restocked fully."

Sebastian nodded slightly and couldn't hold back a smile of his own. "Don't worry about it too much. I'll call you on Sunday."

"I can't wait," Joseph said. "But, for now, I'm parked on the other side of the lot. I'll see you both later."

They parted ways, leaving Sebastian alone with only his cross and Kidman for company. It seemed strange to him that the junior detective would've hung around for as long as she did, but then again, damn near everything Kidman did was strange to him. He'd eased up on her over the last few weeks and stopped treating her like some kind of burden or a spy, but there was still just something about her that seemed off.

"So, how old?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Sebastian turned around to look at her and started the walk back to his car, expecting Kidman to fall into step with him. She did so immediately. That was one thing that he could say she was good at: she was a fast learner who didn't need to be told things twice, and she seemed to be exceptionally good at picking up on nonverbal cues.

"Thirty-six," he told her.

"You're not as old as I thought you were," she said.

He gave her a bit of a glance out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be offended by that."

"I didn't mean for it to be offensive," she said. "You just come off as... very fatherly, is all. I tend to associate those traits with older men by default."

A tiny smile touched at Sebastian's lips. Kidman didn't know. At least, as far as Sebastian knew, Kidman wasn't aware of the fact that he'd actually been a father. Still was, as far as he was concerned. It was nice to know that that was still how he carried himself in a public setting, and that he didn't let any of his other miserable bullshit leak into the important things in his life.

"That's because you're at that age now where all your friends are getting married and having kids, but you still feel like you're in college," he told her. "It'll pass. Either you'll get married, yourself, or you'll just reach a point where it becomes normal."

"See, that was exactly what I'm talking about," she said. "You just gave me a bit of fatherly advice, and I didn't even have to ask for it."

He couldn't argue with that. "I guess I did."

Kidman was actually parked right beside him today. Even as he reached into his coat pocket for his car keys, he could feel her eyes on him. That was something that he'd never get used to with her. The weirdest part was that she didn't ever _stare_ at him - she wasn't ever rude about it - she just always seemed to be glancing at and watching him, for whatever reason.

"Hey, Sebastian," she said just as he was reaching for the door handle of his car.

He turned back around to face her, giving her an open invitation to keep speaking via the expression on his face.

"Joseph said that you lost your faith, back there," she said. "Do you mind if I ask why?"

He sighed at that. "Another day, Kidman."

She pressed her lips together into a thin line as she studied him. He stood there and waited for her to get through whatever thought process was going on in her head, because he could just feel the follow-up question coming. There always was one in conversations like this.

"Were you a particularly religious man?" she asked.

"It wasn't like I went to church every Sunday," he told her, "and I _did_ marry an atheist. I also drank, smoked, cursed, fought, fornicated before I was married, and was an overall model sinner. But I believed. For most of my life, I really believed. But now... if there even _is_ a God, I'm sure that He's not listening anymore. And at that point, why even bother believing at all?"

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "I've heard it said that a pious man doesn't just lose his faith. Instead, it falls away when he loses the part of his soul that it was attached to."

Sebastian felt both his mood and his expression drop. That sure was a new one to him, and the level of truth carried within those words was daunting. A slideshow of memories played back in his mind: his screaming as the house collapsed beneath fire and smoke, his complete and utter detachment from reality during Lily's service, the ice cold murderous intention he felt when Myra suggested arson. He _had_ lost a part of his soul. He was a lesser man now than he'd been a year ago. Broken. Bitter. Petty. Vindictive. Incomplete.

"Do you think of me as being soulless, Kidman?" he asked.

"No," she said, "but then again, I didn't know you back when you were still among the faithful. I have no basis for comparison."

"I _was_ different back then," he admitted. "Happier. I'd argue more naive, too. Probably would've been less of a hard-ass on you during training, though, so it looks like you drew the short straw there."

"I don't think so," she said. "You're a stern man, Sebastian, sure. Hard to please. Harder to impress. But you've never been unfair, unjust, or unkind - not to me, and not to any of the suspects of your cases, either - even the ones that you know are guilty. You set a good example. I consider myself to be very lucky to be training under you."

Her words went straight to his heart. Maybe it was stupid and childish of him, but it honestly meant the world to him to be praised like that, after having to endure so many bullshit jokes and snide remarks over the past few weeks about being an incompetent (and sometimes impotent, depending on which jackass was running their mouth that day) drunk. To hear it come from Kidman meant even more than it probably would have coming from anyone else. He was directly responsible for her, and for her to say that she felt that she was in good hands was an amazing feeling.

"Thank you, Kidman," he said.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Well, I've kept you long enough. I'll see you on Monday, Sebastian. Happy birthday."

He thanked her again, and they both stepped inside their respective vehicles. As Sebastian pulled the door closed behind him, he opened his fist and stared down at the cross in his hand again. He couldn't believe it.

Though, as grateful as he was to have it back, he couldn't find it within himself to wear it again. It seemed so false and disingenuous to wear a cross when he no longer believed in Christ, and it also felt wrong to wear it as a symbol of happier times long past when he wasn't the same person anymore. He didn't want to just stuff it into a box and lock it away, though - that wasn't the right thing to do, either.

After a moment of contemplation, he reached over and slid the chain around the rearview mirror. The silver caught the cold sunlight as it dangled there in the windshield. At the very least, he could use it as a reminder that he still had things in the world worth sticking around for. Worth fighting for. And any time he felt the urge to take the nearest interstate and keep going until he couldn't find his way back - to leave this bullshit sham of a life behind and start over new somewhere else - he could look at the cross and remember his grandfather. Remember his daughter. Remember his wife. They were gone but not forgotten, and Sebastian would see to it that they never were.

He put his key in the ignition and turned it, but he paused halfway to reaching for his seatbelt. He hadn't noticed it at the time, but it struck him now. Kidman could've asked him about the fire. Joseph had mentioned it explicitly. But she didn't. She asked about his faith instead, almost like she already knew what the fire was.

Maybe she did. It wasn't like it was a secret - it'd been all over the news for almost a week when it'd happened - but Kidman wasn't from Krimson City. It was possible that she'd heard about it from one of the other officers somehow, but...

It was just another one of those things about Kidman that simply felt off to him. In reality, it was probably nothing, but it would still bother the holy hell out of him for the entire rest of the day.

\--

**October 14, 2012**

Krimson City existed right smack in the middle between New York City and Boston, which pitted it directly on the borderline of Giants territory and Patriots territory. Nothing tore the entire county apart worse than the sports rivalries it contained, and it didn't help that one of Sebastian's favorite pastimes was to throw fuel on the flames. That it was his birthday today only gave him an excuse to be even rowdier about it than usual. Unfortunately, his depression was hampering his drive to be as much of an unrepentant asshole as he would've liked to have been.

He and Joseph never drank within the confines of the city, nor any of the smaller suburbs under the jurisdiction of the KCPD. It was unprofessional and just flat-out unwise. They always took a cab to an outlying town further inland, where they could forget they were cops and not have to worry about anyone else recognizing them as such.

The sports bar they'd ended up in today was a blessed little building that still allowed smoking indoors. Right off the bat, Sebastian already got everything he could've wanted for his birthday - though Joseph still insisted on buying the first round anyway. By now they were already halfway through the second quarter, and Sebastian still hadn't managed to get into a spat with anyone else in the bar - which surprised him, considering the fact that the Patriots were facing off against the Seahawks at the exact same time the Giants were playing the 49ers. Both games were playing on two different TVs, but Sebastian and Joseph were horribly, horribly outnumbered as fans. This was clearly Patriots territory.

In reality, Joseph wasn't actually the biggest football fan in the world. He didn't get into the play-by-plays of the game the way Sebastian did. Instead, he had way more fun analyzing statistics and following player trends than anything else. It was a little bit of math nerdery held over from his days as an engineering student, Sebastian supposed.

His partner was currently in the middle of an argument with some blonde bombshell about all of the reasons why Victor Cruz was almost certainly going to be hailed as the single best wide receiver in the NFL within the next five years. Sebastian had been a part of the discussion initially, but once they started with math and statistics, he backed off. That kind of shit was way over his head. 

It was about that time when he noticed the ugly stares and glares being thrown their way. The girl really knew her stuff - she kept up with Joseph point for point, and she certainly didn't need any protecting or rescuing from the Pats fans that glared at them from across the bar - but the two of them were having the friendly, spirited kind of argument that almost always opened the door to something a little more personal in its fun factor. Or, at least, it _would_ if Joseph was at all the type of guy to just go home with some random woman he met at a bar, no matter how ridiculously hot and overwhelmingly intelligent she was.

Besides, Joseph was already in love with some guy - who Sebastian _still_ didn't know the identity of. This poor girl never had a chance, though it was pretty clear that she was hoping she did.

Sebastian took a drag from his cigarette and then ashed it lightly in the tray beside him as he exhaled. The Pats fans still hadn't looked away, so Sebastian stared right back at them with a stony expression.

"We got a fuckin' problem here, gentlemen?" one of them piped up finally. He was slightly older than Sebastian was - maybe early fifties - with a bald head and a long mustache.

Sebastian hovered his cigarette over the ashtray and lightly tapped at it a few times with his index finger, shaking off any excess ash at the tip. He offered the other man a slow shake of his head and an expression that was clearly disingenuous in its incredulity.

"Not on our end," he said. He brought his cigarette up to his lips and took another small puff before continuing. "Are you still sore from the whooping we gave you in February?"

The Super Bowl had been five days before Lily's death, and it was the last day that Sebastian could honestly say he'd had fun and enjoyed himself. It was the second time that the Giants and the Patriots had met in the Super Bowl, and Big Blue's amazing last-minute comeback was still buzzing around the heads of everyone in the NFL.

"Fuck you," the man spat. "It wasn't a whooping. You got fucking lucky."

"I'm not sure I see how a game-winning touchdown is lucky," Sebastian said. "We charged all the way down that field play after play."

"With a minute left on the clock?" the man said. "Fucking lucky. You barely got away by the skin of your balls."

"Maybe if your team's defense would've held, we wouldn't have gotten so lucky," Sebastian said nonchalantly as he took another puff of his cigarette.

" _Fuck you,_ " the man repeated. "Who the fuck do you think you are? I never seen you in this bar before, and you just fuckin walk in here and start running your fucking mouth like a punk."

" _You_ started with _me_ ," Sebastian pointed out. "I'm just trying to watch my game."

"The hell you are," the man said. "You fuckin walk in here... You fuckin... You and your _wide receiver_ over there." He frowned and then shifted his position on his stool, leaning forward and raising his voice towards Joseph's new friend. "Hey, sweetheart! I wouldn't bother if I were you! That guy's not playing for your team! And I don't mean the Patriots, either!"

Well, that was only a matter of time, Sebastian supposed. It wasn't truly a football spat until someone accused one or both of them of being gay, because drunk idiots seemed to be under the impression that being gay was somehow an insult. Even if Sebastian and Joseph _didn't_ already swing both ways, it was a completely ludicrous statement. The only thing that was missing now was some good old-fashioned American racism. Sebastian was already counting down the seconds in his head until he got called a spic, despite the fact that he was Spanish and not Latino - and also until Joseph got called a chink, despite the fact that he was Japanese and not Chinese. Distinction seemed to matter very little to pigs.

Joseph snapped to attention and slowly spun around in his stool. His face was a cool mask, but Sebastian could already see the argument brewing behind his eyes. Normally, Joseph was a calm, rational person. He was always the angel on Sebastian's shoulder - his conscience, telling him to back down or lay off when things got out of control. But when Joseph got to drinking, he immediately turned into the devil on the other shoulder. He became the silent enabler - the person who _suggested_ that Sebastian not push too far, but who also reassured him that he'd have his back if he went ahead and did it anyway.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Did he just call me gay for speaking with a woman?"

"No, he called you gay for wearing a number 80 jersey for Big Blue," Sebastian told him.

"Oh, that's fine then," Joseph said. "It's a fair assessment to make. I _am_ pretty gay for him." 

He turned back around without further comment, and it took all of Sebastian's willpower not to crack a smile. Joseph's new friend took over and picked up the slack for him. She raised her hand to her lips as though she was about to blow a kiss to the bald Pats fan, but she flipped him the bird instead when she pulled her fingers away.

"You know, that's actually pretty ironic coming from a guy in a Brady jersey," Sebastian called out, turning his attention back to his aggressor.

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"You don't think Tom Brady's gay?" Sebastian asked.

He couldn't help himself. It was so easy - _so goddamn easy_ \- to get guys like this riled up and pissed off, and Sebastian had been looking for a fight today to begin with. It'd be good to blow off some steam, and there was no better target than this asshole.

"Are you fucking talking shit about my quarterback?" the man shouted. "You're talking shit about _my_ quarterback, when you're sitting here wearing a jersey for Eli 'The Other' Manning? He's not his brother. He'll never be his brother. And he sure as shit won't ever be Tom Brady, either. So he won two Super Bowls. Fuck you. So what? Brady's been to five and won three."

"And both of the two he lost were to us," Sebastian said. "Look, I'm not saying Brady's a bad quarterback. I'm just saying I think he's gay. Is it really that much of an insult to you?"

"My quarterback is not a fucking faggot," the man hissed.

Sebastian tapped at his cigarette again, swallowing down his kneejerk reaction to jump the bar and take a swing. He hated that word. He'd been called it too many times in his life, and nearly all of those times had ended in a physical fight. Not all of them were victories, and he still sported some of those scars. The line over his left eyebrow was one of them. But he couldn't let it get to him like that - couldn't give this guy the satisfaction of turning the tables and getting under his skin. Sebastian had to stay on the offensive, otherwise this night was going to get really ugly really quickly. And on his birthday, no less.

Fortunately, he knew _exactly_ what to say to break this guy.

"I've sucked dick before," Sebastian said, his voice raised loud enough for the entire bar to hear, "and I _still_ say that Tom Brady is the biggest fag in the NFL."

" _You motherfucker_ -"

That was about as far as that threat went, though. The bald man went red in the face and attempted to scramble off of his stool and onto his feet, but he magnificently failed step two. He fell to the floor with a loud _thump_ , and the other Pats fans around him immediately bounded to their feet to help him, throwing "what the fuck"s and various insults at Sebastian the whole time.

"Down he goes," Joseph said, glancing over with an uninterested expression on his face. After a second, he turned all the way around again and leaned over to get a better look at the scene. His voice was slightly raised as he called out, "Hey, don't you have any leash laws in place in this town? You shouldn't leave your animals unattended like that."

Sebastian clapped a hand over his own mouth in order to hide the smile that split his face and stifle the laughter that wanted to bubble out with it. Drunk, snarky Joseph was one of his favorite versions of Joseph, and it was one that he didn't see nearly enough. Still smirking slightly, he reached for his beer and buried his face in it, taking a nice long sip. A drink well-earned.

"I wonder what your wife would have to say about your little confession just now," a feminine voice piped up to his right.

He put his drink down and glanced over to find a woman with long brown hair sitting beside him. He hadn't noticed her before now. It looked like she'd just come in from outside, as she still had her coat on and her scarf up and covering the lower half of her face, but her hair wasn't windblown, and she didn't look like she was actually cold. Sebastian eyed her curiously, and she nodded towards his left hand - specifically, his wedding band - by way of explanation.

"Oh, she knows," he said. "Believe me, she knows."

"I don't see her here tonight," the woman said. She had a very strange cadence to her voice, almost dream-like in nature, like she was half asleep or under the effects of hypnosis.

Sebastian looked a little closer. She bore an interesting symbol on the breast of her coat: a rail spike decorated with three stars to its left. He'd never seen the like before. As he studied her face, he noticed that she seemed to have some sort of Hispanic heritage, from what little he could see, but what stood out to him the most was her eyes. They were purple, just like Kidman's. More cosmetic lenses?

"She had to work late," he lied, "as much as she would've loved to have been here."

"I see," the woman said. "I should get back to work, as well. Try not to cause too much trouble while I'm gone."

She turned to leave, but she hesitated after a step and turned back around to face Sebastian.

"Oh," she said. "I nearly forgot. Happy birthday, Detective Castellanos."

He was so stunned and stricken that he couldn't even react. His booze-addled brain only hampered the process, and by the time he composed himself, she was already out the door.

"It occurs to me," Joseph said, snapping Sebastian back into reality, "that I've heard you say things like that before in order to rile people up during games like this, but for some reason I never put it together in my head that you were being sincere."

He was, of course, referring to having been oblivious about Sebastian's sexuality for all these long years. Sebastian would've normally made some remark about Joseph having supposed to have been a detective, but he just couldn't seem to bring himself into the right mind frame for that conversation. He shook his head in an attempt at getting the pieces to fall back into place, but everything still just felt jumbled up and wrong. There was no way he'd ever met that woman before, and he was damn sure he hadn't told anyone in this bar that he was a detective.

"Did you know that woman?" he asked Joseph, completely ignoring his partner's previous statement.

"What woman?" Joseph asked.

"The woman I was just talking to just now," he said. "The Hispanic lady in the scarf. She had purple eyes just like Kidman."

"I didn't see you talking to anyone," Joseph told him. "I must have missed her. As far as I know, the only woman either of us has spoken to all evening has been..."

He turned back around to where his blonde lady friend had been sitting, but she was gone. Sebastian swallowed nervously and turned his attention back to his beer. As stupid as it might have been, he was completely rattled. Maybe he was just being paranoid like Dr. Reynolds seemed to think he was, but shit like that didn't just _happen._ Not in context with everything else that'd been going on his life lately.

By the end of the day, the Giants beat the 49ers, and the Patriots lost to the Seahawks, but Sebastian couldn't find himself to be excited by either of those things. He couldn't shake the feeling of having a knife to his throat and eyes at his back. He had to wonder if Myra had felt the same way the day she disappeared.

\--

**November 20, 2012**

The package had no return address. How it hadn't been rejected by the USPS in the first place was a mystery in and of itself, but Sebastian signed for it all the same. It was an unassuming little thing, not particularly heavy by any means, and maybe not more than a foot and a half in length. His first instinct was to call Joseph and have him check it over for any signs of foul play or explosives, but he quickly came to the conclusion that he didn't need to. If someone was really out to kill him, they'd send something a little bit bigger than a package like this. After all, they'd set fire to his house the first time they wanted someone dead, and they made Myra disappear entirely when they went after her.

What was actually contained in the package shocked him.

A note from Myra. Copies of all of her notes and files from her personal investigation. USB drives containing other photographs, documents, and sound files. Everything he needed was right there in front of him - all of the proof and all of the roads to follow. She asked him to get justice. She told him she loved him. 

None of those things were nearly as important to him as the one personal sound file she left for him at the very, very end. A second, spoken letter. Her final words for him.

_Sebastian,_

_I need you to listen to me very carefully. I'm sure that you're more than capable of making heads and tails of things just based on my files and notes, but while I have a minute here left to myself, I want to tell you the direct route I've been pursuing for all these long months._

_I told you back in July that I suspected Lily's death to be a murder, not an accident. I told you that I saw a connection between her and the Elk River killings. But I never told you how. All of the missing persons cases that fell to my desk, and all of the found victims you were investigating had a shared background. Either they were involved in the church, the mental hospital, or the KCPD. That isn't news to you. I know I've said that to you before. But I never went far enough with how they were targeting officers. How they were targeting us._

_But let's rewind a little bit. This is your case, so you know it better than I do. I want you to think about it, Sebastian. Really think about it. All of the bodies that were discovered had some kind of crude and odd surgeries performed on them, correct? It's not your run-of-the-mill serial killer. There's nothing sexual or romantic about the murders, nor are there any signs of excessive violence. It almost seems like these people were all experimented on. But, by whom? For what? And where are the rest of them? Human beings don't just disappear, Sebastian. Where are the bodies? Is it possible that they're still alive somewhere, still under the knife?_

_The breadth and scope of this suggests that there are multiple killers - or maybe not multiple killers, but multiple people involved. You're going to laugh at me. It's like I can just see that smirk on your face and that little twinkle you get in your eyes when you think someone's making a complete jackass out of themselves. Someone is providing these bodies - these victims - to the killer or killers. Maybe it's linked to those awful rumors and stories about Beacon. I don't know. But some person or a group of people are kidnapping people and sending them to be experimented on. And the KCPD is running cover operations._

_I know. It sounds crazy. But when I told you that the Inspector went missing, what was the first thing that went through your head, Sebastian? That whatever he knew wasn't meant to get out, right? Just like us. Like me. We were getting too close, but they couldn't just keep making officers tied to the case disappear. So, they went after Lily instead. Our little girl. The intention was probably to get us to screw ourselves over - that we'd be too depressed, too distraught, too incompetent to keep up our work on the highest-profile case in the department._

_But you showed them, didn't you? They weren't counting on you - your determination, your tenacity, your stubborn refusal to let your private life interfere with your work. You were always such a wildcard, Sebastian. Such a dangerous man, even if you never thought of yourself that way. You gave me strength these last few months, even if it probably didn't seem that way. I probably would have crumbled without you, but seeing you every morning, watching you put yourself together and move forward even though you broke apart every single night..._

_It doesn't matter now._

_Sebastian, Joseph is the most powerful weapon you have in your arsenal. I know I always give him a hard time, but he's an outstanding detective. Sharp, observant, reliable, meticulous, and smarter than the two of us combined, probably. But more importantly than any of that, the man loves you. I know you're still probably up his ass about the whole IA thing, and I'm not trying to hurt you by saying this, but you need to get over it and let it go. Joseph would sooner put a bullet in his head than even entertain the idea of hurting you. You might not realize yet what a treasure it is to have someone like that on your side, but you will soon, if you decide to pursue this case._

_But I know you. I know how you are. Now that you know all of this, you're going to want to protect him. You won't be able to stand the idea of losing him like you lost me. Obviously, if you're listening to this now, I'm gone, and I can't make you do anything. But please don't keep shutting him out, Sebastian. I shut you out, and now look where that got me. Sitting here alone like an idiot talking to myself, hoping and praying to a god I never believed in that this reaches you, because I was too stubborn and too stupid to ask you for help from the beginning. You're probably mad at me for that, aren't you? I don't blame you. Of all the stupid fucking things I've done... this is the worst. God. Goddamn it._

_Well. I guess I've rambled on long enough. You're an amazing detective, Sebastian, and I know you can crack this case. I_ know _you can._

_And, well..._

_Don't ever forget that you're more than that, too. You were a wonderful father and a perfect husband, even if I was a terrible wife towards the end. You never tried to guilt or pressure me, but you never gave up on me, either, even when you nearly gave up on yourself. Don't give up on yourself now, after having come so far. Please. Please don't give up. All of my happiest memories are with you, Sebastian. I know I wasn't there for you like I should have been, but I was just afraid. Afraid that if I loved you too much, they would take you from me, just like they took Lily. It seems stupid now, doesn't it? Now that I'm the one they've taken. But I love you, Sebastian. I never stopped loving you. I never stopped wanting to be with you, and I never felt safer than when I was in your arms._

_I want you to be happy. When this is all over, and you bring these sons of bitches down - and you_ will _bring these sons of bitches down - I just want you to be happy. I want you to smile again. Find someone - or several someones - or, hell, fuck half the town for all I care. And then fuck the other half, because it's not like you discriminate in the first place. Just do whatever you have to in order to find peace, and know that I'll support you, no matter what it is._

_In missing persons cases and search and rescue operations, the likelihood of someone being found alive plummets to almost zero after forty-eight hours of them not being found. Don't hold out hope for me. I'm probably long dead by now. Just keep moving forward, because there's no way back._

_I love you, Sebastian. I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I'm a big dork who made Sebastian's birthday the same day as The Evil Within's release. I'm not sorry. I also took a bit of an artistic liberty with Tatiana, since I know that she doesn't have purple eyes like Kidman, but I wanted it for narrative consistency. Besides, we never REALLY get a good look at her eyes outside of STEM...
> 
> I can't take credit for the "I've sucked dick before..." comment of Seb's. That was a real thing that a real man stood up and said on the cruise that my parents were on during Super Bowl 2012. It apparently started a melee. I wish I had been there to witness it.
> 
> Merry Christmas, fandom. And if you don't celebrate Christmas, I hope you at least have a wonderful day, and I wish you all the safety and happiness in the world.
> 
> As always, thank you so, so much for reading and leaving your feedback. It means the world to me. God bless.


	7. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late going up! I had some real life stuff dumped on me over the past week, but here we go, ladies and gentlemens!

**December 4, 2012**

Though it may have defied all logic, things had more or less gone back to normal after Sebastian received the package from Myra. It'd been the wake-up call - the slap in the face - he'd needed. All of his stupid petty drama and misplaced feelings for and about Joseph weren't what was important. Sebastian was still a husband, still a father. His _family_ was what was important. He'd been so caught up in his own selfish misery that he'd forgotten that somewhere along the line. No more. 

He'd started drinking less and started thinking more. Sebastian must have poured over Myra's notes and files dozens of times over the last two weeks, though he still hadn't quite decided what he wanted to do with them yet. It all seemed too damn big to tackle on his own, and just as Myra had predicted, he was hesitant to involve Joseph. Not because he didn't trust him, but because he didn't want anyone else getting hurt. Slipping back into the role of husband and father brought his protective paternal instincts back twice over. Joseph wasn't a child that needed coddling, but Sebastian just couldn't help but fall right into the role of the silent guardian.

The dynamic between himself and his partners while on duty and in the office remained unchanged, though - everything was just as it'd always been. That was at least one thing he could commend himself for: no matter how ridiculous he'd gotten in his personal life during his off-hours, his professional life never suffered. His work performance _still_ hadn't slipped. And no matter who wanted to be a smartass and run their fucking mouth about his drinking, Joseph and Kidman both still respected him, and that was honestly the only thing that mattered.

Sebastian gathered up his keys as he shrugged on his coat. Joseph was in the process of buttoning up his own. Kidman, however, was still planted in her chair on her side of Sebastian's desk, dutifully typing away with a determined expression on her face. Joseph and Sebastian passed a glance back and forth.

"Day's over, Kidman," Sebastian said. "Time to punch out and go home."

"Hold on just another minute," she said. "I want to get this report finished now so that we can start with a clean slate tomorrow."

"That isn't really necessary," Joseph told her. "As much as I admire your enthusiasm, statistical analysis reports of forensic evidence take a long time, and they aren't like eyewitness or personnel reports that need to be finished right away in order to ensure accuracy. We have another full week to work on this case. You can hold off on this for now."

Kidman pursed her lips and picked up her typing speed, clearly hoping to get as much done as she possibly could before one or both of her superiors got fed up and ordered her to shut it down for the day. She wasn't allowed to be in the office without supervision, which meant they were stuck there until either Kidman finished her report or they forcibly removed her. Sebastian gave a frustrated sigh, and Joseph shrugged at him helplessly.

"I'll stay," Joseph offered. "You go on ahead."

"No," Sebastian said. "I'm technically the one in charge here. It's my responsibility. Besides, I don't have a hungry cat waiting for me at home."

"I'm sure she'll live if I'm an extra hour late," Joseph protested.

"Go home, Joseph," Sebastian ordered, tossing his keys back down onto his desk. "I'll see you in the morning."

Joseph looked like he was about to argue further, but Sebastian was already in the process of removing his coat. As he reclaimed his seat, Joseph gave a rueful shake of his head. There was no way he was winning this one. He bid them both farewell before leaving, and once the door closed behind him, Sebastian realized that this was the first time since her assignment to them in August that he'd been alone in a room with Kidman. There was something slightly unnerving about it, though he couldn't quite tell what it was. Even though she was completely focused on what she was doing, and the only sound in the room was the rhythmic typing of her fingers on the keys, Sebastian couldn't completely fight back the growing anxiety he felt.

He was reluctant to boot his own computer back up and work alongside her, because he knew that he'd end up trapping himself and spending far longer here than he ever intended to. Once Sebastian got into the groove of things, it was hard for him to pull himself out of it. However, he couldn't just sit here and do nothing. After a moment of contemplation, he pulled out his phone and started flipping through the NFL app. While he wasn't a total nerd for post-game analysis and pre-game speculations the way Joseph was, it was at least something for him to do while he waited for Kidman to finish up whatever the hell it was she was working on. The Giants were still in the wildcard running for the playoffs; right now it seemed unlikely that they'd make it, but maybe if Dallas lost their next game...

After a while, much to his surprise, she finally broke the silence.

"I heard an interesting thing the other day," she said, "about you, actually."

Sebastian looked up from his phone with a hard, deadpan stare that he hoped conveyed just how little interest he had in this conversation. Kidman didn't even look at him to see.

"Kidman, unless whatever is about to come out of your mouth next is somehow going to get you to write that report faster, I don't actually give a damn what it is you heard," he said.

"I can multitask," she said.

Sebastian gave her a disapproving glare, which she still didn't notice, and hummed quietly in frustration. His rookie seemed to pay him no mind. No wonder why Joseph was so fond of her - they were practically the same damn person sometimes. Both stubborn and insistent and slightly insubordinate while at the same time being so damn hard-up on rules and proper procedures. It was an infuriating paradox, and if Sebastian didn't already have years and years of experience with Joseph being the way he was, he probably would've been infinitely more annoyed in this moment than he was.

"I heard that you used to be a father," Kidman went on. "That you had a little girl."

Of course that was what this was about.

"I still am a father," he told her. "You don't just stop being a father when you lose a child - any more than you stop being a son once your mother passes. I'm still a husband, too."

"That explains a lot about you," she said.

"Is there any particular reason you felt the need to bring this up, Kidman?" he asked.

"It just seems cruel to me," she said, "that you lost both your daughter and your wife in the same year. In the span of only a few months, even."

"That didn't answer my question," he said sternly.

"I know," she said. "I'm just curious, I guess. How do you do it?"

"How do I do what?"

"Keep moving," she said. "If I hadn't heard, I wouldn't have known. You aren't heartless. You must be hurting. So, how do you keep it together so well?"

Sebastian sighed and shook his head, tossing his phone onto the desk. He was done with that for a while, it seemed.

"Because it's my job," he said, "and I have to. It's part of being an adult."

"Is it?" she asked. "Because part of being an adult is also being human. Nobody's perfect, Sebastian."

He eyed her suspiciously, but she only continued to work on her report. Just like everything else she did, there was something about the way she phrased her questions that made him hesitate. It seemed like she was looking for a very specific answer out of him, but he had no idea what she was hoping to hear.

"You're right," he said, "I'm not. Perfect, I mean. Don't act stupid, Kidman. I know you're smarter than this. The very first day we met, I was getting badgered about my drinking."

"But I've never seen you come to work drunk," she said, "or even hungover. It's all part of the package. You're very well put-together for someone who should be falling apart."

"I fell apart long before I met you," he said. "That's the thing about hitting rock bottom. It's a solid foundation to build yourself back up."

"But Myra was still around when I first met you," she said. "You hit rock bottom before losing her?"

"I did," he admitted. "The truth is, Kidman, I lost Myra before she ever went missing. Or maybe she lost me. Our marriage wasn't perfect."

"You seemed pretty in love from what I could tell," she said.

"That's the big secret nobody wants you to know," Sebastian told her. "Sometimes love just isn't enough. I'd kill for her. I'd die for her. She's the woman of my dreams, and I've never loved anyone more. If I ever find the scumbags who took her, I'll murder them with my bare hands. But that doesn't mean we'd work out together in a relationship if I ever was able to bring her home."

"Have you ever killed anyone before?" Kidman asked.

"No," he said. "Not even close."

"But you think you could?"

"Honestly, Kidman?" he said. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. God help whoever did this to my family, once I find them."

Kidman went silent after that, and Sebastian had a hard time reading her expression as she did. She didn't seem particularly disturbed by the confession, but she clearly wasn't comfortable with the idea, either. Her typing speed slowed, and there was an uncharacteristically worried crease in her brow.

"I thought your daughter's death was an accident," she said finally.

"Do you believe everything you hear?" he asked.

"Well, what makes you so sure it's the same people?" she asked.

"Senior Detective's intuition," he lied. "Combined with some fatherly intuition, too, I'm sure."

"Maybe you're just being paranoid," Kidman pointed out.

"If I didn't know any better, Kidman, I'd say you were worried about me," he said.

"I _am_ worried about you, Sebastian," she said, "but probably not for the reason you think. I _have_ killed before, back at my old station. When you're a dangerous person, danger finds you. I believe you when you say you're capable of killing a man, and I'm sure you'd do it just as coldly as you said you want to. I'd hate to see something happen to you because you went _looking_ for trouble."

The news came as a complete shock, though Sebastian didn't know what surprised him more - the admission that she'd killed a person before, or the fact that she was actually worried about him and didn't want to see him get hurt. He wrinkled his brow in confusion and leaned forward slightly, a thousand thoughts and questions racing through his mind at once. Kidman merely shook her head and closed down her report for the night before shutting down her computer completely.

"We're partners," she said. "You might be my superior, but we're still partners. Don't dig into this, Sebastian. Leave well enough alone."

"What are you afraid that I might find?" he asked.

"The truth," she said. "I've seen it happen to men before at my old station. Good men. Sometimes it's better not knowing. Just... find your peace and move on. Let it go. For your own sake."

"I can't do that," he said. "I won't interfere with the KCPD's investigation of her disappearance, but I can't guarantee that I won't obstruct justice and take matters into my own hands once they find her kidnappers. It's worth going to prison for."

"No," she said sharply. "It isn't. Promise me, Sebastian. Promise you'll behave."

"I can't," he said, rising to his feet. "And I won't. When you're a wife and a mother someday, you'll understand."

She shook her head bitterly and was slow to get up out of her chair. Sebastian gathered his phone and keys as he pulled his coat back on, and Kidman sighed as she reached for her own. They left the office together, and Sebastian locked the door behind him. The walk out to the parking lot was made in silence.

"Do you really think I'm dangerous, Kidman?" he asked as they headed outside.

"Sebastian," she said, "in all honesty, you might be the single most dangerous man I've ever known."

He nodded silently, feeling rattled - not because she thought he was dangerous, but because she sounded so unbelievably like Myra in that moment that he almost felt like she must have heard her final letter.

\--

**December 11, 2012**

"Where's my sister? Well, where _is_ she?"

Sebastian heard his brother-in-law shouting from across the department. His office was on the second floor, so he hadn't heard the initial clamor, but it assaulted his senses the second he stepped out into the hallway. One of the officers who was assigned to the front desk today had run up to grab him, hoping that Sebastian could calm Brian down, as family, so that they didn't have to arrest and remove him.

"Just calm down, Mr. Hanson," a female officer urged. "We're working as hard as we can on this. We're going to find your sister."

"Don't _tell me_ to calm down," Brian yelled at her. "Myra's been missing for _four months_ now. It's taken you people _two_ of them to even consider pursuing her case at all, and now it's two weeks before Christmas, and all you can say is that you're working as hard as you can? Show me. _Show me_ how hard you're working, because that sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. You think you can just give me some lip service and hope I'll go away? Doesn't work like that. Myra's one of your own. The whole fucking building should be in an uproar trying to find her!"

It wasn't the first time that Brian had stormed the KCPD and demanded answers, and it was probably only because of his regular visits that Murphy decided to open Myra's case as a missing person at all. As much as Sebastian was grateful that his brother-in-law had succeeded where he hadn't, the last thing he needed right now was her brother screaming and demanding that more focus be placed on him and his household. Until Sebastian decided exactly what he wanted to do and how he wanted to do it, he couldn't risk Myra's investigation being discovered. Ever since receiving that package last month, he couldn't help but think that it was a _very bad_ thing for the KCPD to be actively looking for her. Myra was very explicit about the depth of corruption that existed in this place. According to her, it went all the way to the Board of Commissioners, and she even had a small amount of evidence to prove it.

Not all of the higher-ups were in on it, though. Strangely enough, one of the people who seemed to be totally clean of any involvement was Deputy Chief Murphy. Sebastian had spent the last month waffling and wringing his hands about showing Myra's work to the Deputy Chief; as much as they didn't get along, Murphy might have been one of the only people who could actually do something to help. 

He turned the corner and stepped into the main hall, where he found his brother-in-law red-faced and shouting at some poor rookie at the front desk. There were two other senior officers looking annoyed and standing ready to remove him from the building physically, but they both nodded and relaxed their stance when they saw Sebastian come into view.

"Brian," he called out calmly. "Why don't you give Officer Perez a break? She's not the one in charge of Myra's case."

Brian wheeled on him.

" _Fuck_ you, Sebastian," he shouted, pointing at him. Sebastian sighed, dropped his head, and rolled his eyes; Brian and Myra had always shared the same hair-trigger temper. "All of these other assholes with their bullshit bureaucracy and their red tape I can understand, but this is _your wife_ we're talking about here! You're her husband and also a fucking cop! Act like it!"

"I'm homicide," he explained. "I can't do anything until they've found a body. You need to give them more time to look."

"Found a body?" his brother-in-law parroted back. "So you've already written her off as dead?"

"I didn't say that," he said. "I'm just saying-"

"You know what, I don't really give a shit what you are or what you think," Brian cut him off. "I really fucking don't. If this was me? If I were you, and this was Emma missing? I'd do everything within my power to find her. I'd tear up this whole fucking city. Hell, I'd even go _beyond_ my power if I had access to the kind of shit you do. They wouldn't be able to _stop_ me from finding her, no matter what my official jurisdiction was. _Do_ something, _Detective._ "

Well, that was the worst possible thing that he could've said in context.

Sebastian stormed over to him and grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him away from the other officers. Brian was only slightly startled, but Sebastian gave him an unblinking, low-brow stare. His expression was no-nonsense to the point of being threatening.

"I'm going to need you to _shut up,_ " he hissed. "What you're suggesting is _illegal,_ and I wouldn't dare cross that line. Do you understand me?"

Brian wound up for another rebuttal and further argument, but he caught himself at the last second. All the wind went out of his sails at once, and his expression dropped from rage to disbelief and bewilderment in record time. Sebastian glanced over at the other officers in the room, and they all had a look of silent suspicion clear on their faces.

"Why don't we go take a walk?" he asked, taking a step backwards towards the door.

His brother-in-law nodded once and followed him outside. The mid-December air was brisk and bracing, and Sebastian hadn't grabbed his coat before heading downstairs. He shivered against the cold and lit up a cigarette in an attempt to keep warm. It was a moderate help, and the smoke warmed his core, but his arms and hands remained freezing. Hopefully this little walk of theirs wouldn't take too long.

"So, what?" Brian asked. "Have you been looking for her this whole time and not told me?"

"Not yet," Sebastian told him. He waited until they were a comfortable distance away from the building before continuing. "I have pieces."

"Pieces?" his brother-in-law asked.

"It's some dirty shit," Sebastian said. "You need to stop coming in here and making a scene, because I can't do shit if they're watching me. I don't know who's involved."

"Wait, wait, whoa," Brian said, stopping mid-stride and turning to face him. "You're telling me that the police are involved in Myra's disappearance?"

"I'm not telling you anything," he said. "Only that I haven't decided yet what I want to do. I don't know who has her, and I don't know what they want. All I know is that proper police procedure won't find her, and if I decide to get my hands dirty and do it myself, I can't afford to make a single mistake. So, you need to stop drawing attention to me. Whatever I decide to do, I'll find her. I swear I'll find her, no matter how far I have to go."

Brian gave him a discriminating look as he took a moment to consider exactly what was being said to him. Sebastian patiently continued to smoke his cigarette, fighting back the urge to tremble visibly beneath the frigid air.

"My mom's been asking about you, you know," he said after a time. "I went up to see her a few weeks ago. She asked me how you were doing, because she thought you were going to do something crazy and get yourself locked up."

"She did?" he asked. "Why would she say that?"

"I don't know," he said. "When I asked her about it, she said that she saw something dangerous in your eyes the day of Lily's funeral. And that that look never went away. I think she thinks you're going to kill someone now that Myra's gone, too."

"I might have to," he said simply.

"That's not funny, Sebastian."

"I'm not laughing."

Silence fell between them. Sebastian finished up his cigarette and flicked the still-lit butt away, waiting for some kind of response from his brother-in-law. Brian wasn't a guy who fucked around - he and his sister had that in common. If Sebastian seriously thought he might end up having to kill a man to get Myra back, then Brian would've believed him. He really seemed to now, judging from the look on his face. After another second, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a pen. Without any warning, he grabbed Sebastian by the wrist, bit the cap off of the pen, and began to write something on the palm of his hand.

"This is the number," he mumbled around the pen cap, "for a buddy of mine I knew back in the Marines. Raines. Derek Raines. He never integrated back into society well enough after his service."

Brian dropped Sebastian's hand as soon as he was done writing, put the cap back on his pen, and tucked the pen back into his coat. Sebastian stared down at the ten-digit number on his hand. It was such a strange thing to see. No one had written a phone number on his hand since one of the last parties he'd been at in college, and Brian sure as hell wasn't hooking him up with a booty call.

"He makes his living now selling unlicensed military-grade firearms," Brian went on. "Even if you don't need a gun, if you need anything else - a car, fake plates, fake IDs, a place to lay low, and hell, even information - he's the place to start. He'll know people. Just tell him that you're friends with Corporal Hanson. Don't tell him we're family - he'll dig into that shit. Give him a fake name, and don't tell him you're a cop. He'll cut your throat on the spot."

"You just wrote the phone number of an organized crime lord on the hand of a cop in the parking lot of the police department," Sebastian said.

"No, I wrote the phone number of an old friend on my brother's hand in order to help him find my sister," Brian corrected him. "Raines owes me a favor twenty years in the making. I can't think of a better time to cash in on it. He'll help you, Sebastian. Just bring my sister home. Even if... even if it is just her body. I need to know what happened to her."

Sebastian nodded at him numbly. "I will."

He and his brother-in-law shared a quick embrace, and Brian left without another word. Sebastian watched him go and waited for his car to disappear around a turn before even attempting to move again. With a quiet sigh of resignation, he pulled out his phone and saved Raines's number in his contacts. As he headed back inside, he licked the palm of his hand and rubbed the ink away, wondering if he'd already made the decision to hunt for Myra on his own without even realizing it.

\--

**December 20, 2012**

That black car had been parked outside his house for two days now. Sebastian never saw the driver, but it was never in quite the same place from day to day, hour to hour. Someone must own it, someone _must_ be moving it, but he had no idea who or when or why.

He ran the plates through the system at work yesterday just out of sheer curiosity. They were fake. Fake plates belonging to a fake VIN number. Any further digging yielded no results, and if he _really_ wanted to pursue this, he'd have to open a case on it, and he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Either that, or he could poke around behind backs and work after hours. That was trickier. As far as he knew, that was what Myra had done, and the last thing he needed was to be caught the same way she had been.

Of course, there was always a third option. Sebastian stared down at the screen of his phone - specifically, at the phone number for Derek Raines. Raines would be able to track those plates, or he would know someone who could. That was how all those crime lord scumbags worked: everyone knew everyone and had access to everything. That was part of the reason why they were always so damn hard to catch.

The warning he'd gotten from Kidman earlier in the month was still buzzing around in his head. She thought that he was a dangerous man - thought that he was capable of terrible things and would only attract trouble. Apparently, his mother-in-law felt the same way. While he didn't want either of them to worry about him, he didn't know what else to do.

Myra wanted him to get justice. Brian had opened up a road to get there. And, really, what else did he have to lose at this point? They'd killed Lily. Taken Myra. The fact of the matter was that they'd probably come for him either way. He decided that he couldn't bring this to Murphy - Murphy wouldn't listen to him, and even if he did, there was no way in hell he'd let Sebastian _help_ in this search. Besides, Sebastian was sure that he considered him to be the prime suspect in the case to begin with. In fact, the only thing that seemed to stop the Deputy Chief from treating it like a homicide was the fact that Sebastian was the _head_ of the homicide unit. So what other choice did he have?

_You're her husband and a cop. Act like it._

If he called Raines now, there would be no going back. Sebastian would have to pursue this to the end; he couldn't half-ass it. But if he was already being watched, then...

The decision had been made for him. He swallowed hard and hit the call button. David Ramirez. That'd be a good enough alias, he supposed. It had to be.

_Just keep moving forward, because there's no way back._

\--

**December 25, 2012**

It was shocking how easy it was to think of Christmas as being just another day. Sebastian fully expected to be horribly depressed when he woke up in the morning, knowing that it was Christmas and that he'd had no reason to play Santa last night. But it was far easier to ignore the absence of something when there were no immediate reminders of it. He hadn't even bothered decorating the house.

Even though Murphy had given the entire detectives' bureau ten days off for Christmas and New Year's, the union made it so that he couldn't technically _stop_ Sebastian from working. With nothing else to do, he went and spent the holiday inside of his office. The only other souls around were a skeleton crew of a few disgruntled low-ranking officers and dispatchers who couldn't fathom why he would _want_ to come into work today, when they were all dying to get off.

It wasn't just for a distraction. So few people around meant that he had room to work and breathe. Sebastian had a wealth of resources and opportunity at his fingertips in order to pursue his personal investigation. The less he had to rely on Derek Raines, the better.

He had to hand it to him, though: Raines had come through for him and connected him with someone who'd tracked down the origins of the fake plates. They were forged by an _extremely_ talented professional, who also happened to be one of Krimson City's most wanted. 

It'd been the strangest thing in the world when Sebastian went to go and see her in person; by all rights, he should have been taking her away in handcuffs. Instead, he was marveled at just how quickly and easily he built up a friendly banter with her, and if he'd have met her ten years ago, he would have bent her over her work bench and fucked her the moment she first touched his arm and extended an invitation with her eyes. 

She'd known he was a cop from the second he walked in the door, though, and as a result, he wasn't sure just how much he trusted the information she gave him. The only reason she even tolerated his presence at all was because she seemed to intrinsically understand that he was approaching her on shady grounds for an illegal investigation - something that she could appreciate and respect. She gave him a name and phone number of the buyer who'd requested the plates. When he ran them both through the system today, he wasn't surprised to find that the name was fake and the number had been deactivated. He'd have to dig further into that number, though - what service provider, when it was activated, when it was deactivated, under what name, what card, and everything else. Right now, it was the only real lead he had.

At around 11:00am, there came a knock on the door to his office. Before Sebastian could even respond in affirmation, he was shocked to see the door open as Investigator Phi, of all people, let himself in. Sebastian dropped what he was doing and sat back in his chair, giving the Investigator a confused look.

"Merry Christmas, Castellanos," Investigator Phi said. He grabbed the chair from Joseph's desk and took a seat. "I heard you were here angling for overtime. Not surprised to see that you are, though I thought you'd be in church today."

"I haven't been to church since before the accident, Investigator," he said. "I haven't really seen the point."

"After what you've been through?" Phi said. "Can't say I really blame you. Murphy's gonna be pissed about having to approve your time-and-a-half, though."

Sebastian rolled his eyes and made a jerking off motion with his right hand. Like he honestly gave a fuck about what Murphy felt or thought.

"This isn't about the pay," he said. "I'd be here off the clock if I had to. I just needed something to get my mind off the holiday, and I can't think of a less cheery place to be than here."

Phi gave an honest laugh at that and readjusted his posture in the chair.

"I hear you," he said. "Only reason I'm here right now is to avoid the in-laws. You got lucky, marrying into a family that actually likes you, and also not old enough to have even _more_ in-laws from your kids. Fuck this holiday and every one like it."

"Not that any of that really matters now," Sebastian said somberly.

The expression on Phi's face immediately turned to something more serious, and Sebastian felt his own mood drop with it. He'd never know the frustration Phi was talking about. His wife was gone, and the only child he was likely to ever have was dead. Even if by some strange twist of fate Sebastian _did_ remarry one day, he was sure he wouldn't have another kid. He refused to have another one over the age of forty, and he seriously doubted he'd get over Myra, heal from his ordeal, find another woman, fall in love, and get married in under the span of four years. It just wasn't going to happen.

"You know, Castellanos," Phi said, breaking the silence, "I still remember your interview. What was that, thirteen years ago now? Fourteen? Christ. Where does the time even go? But I remember sitting up on that panel while the Chief and a few others battered you with questions, one right after another, and watching you dead-stare us as you answered every single one, not missing a beat. It's a rare thing, you know, to interview a new recruit who never once got rattled or flustered while under fire like that. Some of your answers were total horse shit, but it was always the immediacy of them that impressed everyone."

Sebastian gave the Investigator a puzzled stare, unsure of what to make of this. He and Phi had never been particularly close, and it seemed odd to him that the man would remember his job interview from two lifetimes ago. Hell, Sebastian himself barely even remembered it. Where was this going?

"Point is," Phi went on, "I like you, Castellanos. You were always a good kid and _damn_ good at your job. Then you grew up and became a good man, and now you're even better at your job. I'd hate to see you burn out now or get yourself into trouble by sticking your nose somewhere it doesn't belong. Understand?"

His heart froze. Phi knew. As the seconds ticked by and the Investigator stared him down, there was no mistaking that he knew exactly what Sebastian was really doing here on Christmas. He'd known about Myra's investigation, too. This was a warning. A friendly cease and desist, lest Sebastian disappear just the same way his wife had.

"I'm not sure I get where this is coming from, Investigator," he said, keeping his voice and expression a cool mask.

"Sure you don't," Phi said. "I might be the head of IA, but I was a cop once, too, and believe me, I know that no one comes in to work on Christmas because they _want_ to. You came in because you had something you wanted to work on, and I came in to see _you_ once someone told me you were here. I don't know what the hell you're doing or what you're after, but I'm sure it involves Myra somehow, and no good is going to come of it. You stay within your jurisdiction, Detective. This is your only warning."

"I'm here working on a lead to the Elk River killer," he said. It technically wasn't a lie, if in fact Myra's disappearance did have something to do with Elk River. "I don't know what it is you _think_ I'm here doing, but with all due respect, I don't really appreciate being accused of insubordination from someone who isn't even my superior."

A snakelike smile appeared on Phi's face as he rose to his feet. He pushed Joseph's chair back into place and adjusted the breast of his jacket as he stared down his nose at Sebastian.

"No one's accusing you of anything," the Investigator said. "Just a friendly warning between colleagues. Anyway, I'll leave you to it, then. Try not to be here for more than your normal eight hours. _I'm_ the one who's gonna have to hear the bitching from Murphy if you do."

"Merry Christmas, Investigator," Sebastian hissed. His words were an acidic dismissal.

Phi gave a respectful bow of his head and showed himself out of the office, leaving Sebastian to stew in the aftermath of what'd just happened. Phi was one of the corrupt ones. He was one of the people who'd orchestrated Myra's disappearance. There was no mistaking it. He could have even been involved with the fire, too, for all Sebastian knew.

It made him sick to think about. Even worse was the thought that this was, on some level, Myra's fault. If she hadn't pushed Joseph towards taking action, he never would have reported Sebastian to IA, and Phi never would've started poking into his life.

No. No, that wasn't fair. He couldn't just blame her, and he couldn't blame Joseph for it, either - no more than he could blame himself. The three of them weren't at fault; Sebastian wasn't going to start victim blaming now. The only person ever at fault for a crime was the criminal who'd committed it. It was Phi. It was Phi and whatever corrupt bullshit organization he was working for. Sebastian suddenly felt completely vindicated for taking on Myra's case; he felt righteous. This shit had to stop, and it had to get the fuck out of the KCPD.

But there were eyes on him now. There'd probably been eyes on him ever since the initial IA investigation. He had to be more careful than he was. At the very least, he needed to stop for today. Anything he did was going to be traced and tracked.

With a sigh, Sebastian pulled his phone out of his pocket. There was at least one other person he knew who would be spending Christmas alone this year. They wouldn't be able to get any work done, but hopefully he and Joseph could at least go catch a movie.

\--

**December 31, 2012**

They decided to spend New Year's at Joseph's apartment. It was mostly due to the fact that his apartment didn't have any stairs to struggle up or fall down - but in the end, neither of them had drank very much. Sebastian rarely allowed himself to get truly _drunk_ anymore these days. He was growing increasingly paranoid, and he knew it, but he'd rather be alert and safe than missing and sorry. Of course, that didn't stop him from continuing to drink damn near every day, but that wasn't really the point.

Most of the night had been spent with two pizzas, a twelve-pack of beer, and B-grade horror movies on Netflix. At one point, they'd gotten into an argument about the metaphysics of Romero movies, and how the concept of "when Hell is full, the dead shall walk the earth" was complete bullshit in all forms of Christianity. When the conversation expanded into _all_ Abrahamic religions, though, and Joseph started pulling out stuff from Islam, Sebastian had to admit defeat. For an agnostic, his partner knew way too much about religion for his own good.

Two minutes to midnight, they temporarily switched over to cable TV in order to watch the ball drop. Both of them decided to go grab another beer for the countdown, and they wandered back towards the TV from their trek to the kitchen just at the one minute warning. Sebastian twisted the top off of his beer bottle and idly tossed it onto the coffee table; Joseph already had his open. Neither of them took a seat just yet.

"This'll be my first New Year's since fucking _high school_ that I won't have anyone to kiss at midnight," Sebastian lamented.

Joseph gave a disinterested shrug. "I've never kissed anyone at midnight on New Year's."

Sebastian slowly turned his head to look at his partner, confusion clear on his face. Joseph simply shrugged again, looking helpless.

"What?" he said. "I haven't."

"How old are you?" Sebastian asked.

"Shut up."

In spite of himself, Sebastian found himself smirking at that. They hadn't had _terribly_ too much to drink, but they'd had just enough that snarky, devil-on-his-shoulder Joseph was breaching the surface. For a brief moment, Sebastian wondered if he had a fun alter ego that came out to play when he drank, too, but he was pretty sure that he only had two dial settings: normal self and shitfaced weepy mess. It was kind of disappointing.

The countdown began. At the stroke of midnight, Sebastian and Joseph lightly knocked their beer bottles together in a toast and took a sip. It wasn't as satisfying as a kiss, but it went down easy and was better than nothing. They set their drinks down onto coasters on the table when they were done, and Sebastian glanced over at the TV again. Jenny McCarthy had her tongue down some poor soldier's throat, and then the camera panned over to where the Clintons were unashamedly making out. Sebastian suppressed a disgusted shudder; even the most dysfunctional marriage in America was getting more action than him.

"Now they're just trying to make me feel bad," he griped.

Joseph chuckled softly and shook his head. When Sebastian looked over at him, his partner had an expression on his face that he'd never seen before. There was a mischievously inviting smirk on his face - one that was reflected in his eyes. Sebastian hesitated, almost certain that he was misreading the signals, but when Joseph's gaze flitted back and forth between Sebastian's eyes and his lips, there could be no mistake about it.

His heart was pounding.

This was stupid. He was a grown-ass man with more notches on his bedpost than he could honestly remember (college had been a strange drunken haze of sticking his dick in anything that said yes), and there was no good reason for him to feel nervous about the prospect of kissing his partner - _especially_ considering he'd already done it before. But things weren't tense or pathetic this time. In reality, the fact that they were so decidedly _normal_ was what put him on edge in the first place.

It was those obnoxious feelings again. Sebastian thought he'd put a lid on them and gotten his shit together after receiving Myra's package, but apparently not. He was like some stupid lovesick teenager faced with the prospect of getting to kiss his crush. It was _so goddamn stupid._

But he'd never get this chance again. Fuck it. Maybe if he just got it out of his system now, it'd go away for good.

Sebastian reached over and gently cradled the side of Joseph's jaw as he pulled him in for a kiss. His partner immediately reciprocated, placing his hands on Sebastian's shoulders as he stepped in even closer. Joseph's lips were soft and warm, and the kiss itself was so dramatically different from the last one they'd shared. There was nothing desperate and pleading about it - instead it was comfortable and relaxed.

Feeling emboldened, Sebastian decided to push his luck. He broke away for only a hair's breadth before pressing back in again in search of something deeper. Joseph was right there on the same page with him, and things became hot and open-mouthed as he met him halfway. It was the kiss that Sebastian had been robbed of the first time around - the one that Joseph had broken off before either of them had had the chance to settle in and enjoy it.

Tiny sounds of kissing filled the room as their lips and tongues met again and again in perfect sync and rhythm. Joseph's right hand snaked its way up the side of Sebastian's neck and around to the back of his head, burying itself in his hair as he pressed against him a little harder. A soft groan of appreciation escaped the back of Sebastian's throat; the way Joseph kissed him was so insistent and so passionate that it made his head spin and allowed him to believe and pretend, just for a minute, that the man that his partner was in love with was really him.

As their momentum wound down and they finally broke away from one another, neither of them moved to pull away completely. They simply stood there for a time, eyes still mostly closed as they breathed each other's air. Every so often, they gravitated back together, passing tiny close-lipped kisses back and forth.

Myra's voice began to echo in his head.

_And if you found it in your heart to forgive Joseph? What then?_

_Please don't keep shutting him out._

_I just want you to be happy. Just do whatever you have to in order to find peace._

"Happy new year, Seb," Joseph murmured softly against his lips.

"Happy new year, Joseph," he returned.

He wanted to take this further - wanted to rekindle the kiss, push Joseph down onto the couch, and climb into his lap. He wanted to move his lips to the side of Joseph's neck and continue down his chest and abs until he had his cock in his mouth, hard and ready. He wanted to look up at Joseph as he sucked him off - wanted to watch the expression on his face shift and change as Sebastian worked to please him.

But he didn't. He couldn't. It wasn't right. Sebastian had to bring Myra's kidnappers to justice before he could even think about moving on - and besides, he still had to work with the guy. Creating some kind of friends with benefits situation now would only strain and complicate things. Sebastian slipped out of Joseph's arms, reclaimed his beer, and plopped down on the couch.

It didn't mean anything. That was what he had to tell himself over and over. It was just a New Year's kiss; it didn't mean _anything._ But damn if it wasn't an honest struggle for Sebastian to keep his hands off of Joseph for the rest of the night. It was so hard to resist the urge to pull him into his arms as they picked up where they left off on their movie marathon. It took real effort to keep his hands contained in his own lap and not idly move one onto Joseph's thigh. And when the night started to get the better of them and he began to nod off on the couch, it was impossible to refrain from resting his head against Joseph's shoulder.

Literally. It was impossible. Sebastian fell asleep using Joseph as a pillow, and his partner allowed him to without complaint. Even still, _it didn't mean anything._

\--

**January 1, 2013**

The kiss they shared was hot and heavy - more tongue than lips - as Sebastian moved to straddle Joseph on the bed. His partner's glasses had been knocked slightly askew, and they were both breathing heavy as they pawed at each other, both of them eager and desperate to get as much of their hands on the other as possible. Sebastian was already hard as he tugged at the buckle of Joseph's belt, and from the light brush of his touch against the crotch of his pants, he could tell that his partner was, too.

" _Seb,_ " Joseph whined as Sebastian broke the kiss in order to trail his lips down the side of his neck instead. His chest shuddered on his next exhale. "Ah-"

The leather of his belt finally came free from the buckle, and Sebastian was quick to undo his fly and slip his hand inside his partner's blue jeans. His fingers and palm found his cock immediately, and he gave it a few light strokes as best he could within the confines of his pants as he nipped at the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Like that?" Sebastian muttered in between biting kisses.

"Yes," he whispered breathlessly. "Don't stop. Sebastian, I've wanted this for so long..."

"Moan for me, Joseph," he ordered. Sebastian gave the head of Joseph's cock a gentle squeeze between his thumb and forefinger for emphasis.

Joseph's moans were pained and agonizing. As Sebastian put some distance between them and looked down at him, he could see the gunshot wound above his partner's right hip slowly worsen. Blood pooled around him on the concrete, black and terrible as Joseph's life leaked away.

Sebastian looked up and surveyed his surroundings for what felt like the billionth time, feeling utterly helpless. The streets were completely empty; there wasn't a soul around for miles. His phone was dead. Joseph's had been lost at some point during the pursuit. The radio in the car was jammed; he couldn't get a clear signal.

Help wasn't coming. Joseph was dying, and there was nothing Sebastian could do about it. His throat swelled and tears stung at his eyes as he looked back down at his partner. Blood covered his own hands as he pressed against the wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding, but nothing seemed to help.

"Stay with me, Joseph," he muttered helplessly. "You aren't dying here."

It was the same cross-section that Myra had been shot at all those long years ago. This time, Sebastian hadn't even seen the gunman. Everything had been fine - Joseph was _fine_ not ten seconds ago. How could this have happened?

"Seb," Joseph choked out. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth as he gasped and heaved.

"No," Sebastian whimpered. "Whatever it is, Joseph, save it. You can tell me once you've recovered."

"Sebastian!" Kidman scolded.

He looked up at her, his vision blurry from unshed tears. He was going to lose him. He had to tell him - had to tell him that he loved him, that he was sorry, that he was selfish and stupid and should've told him months ago how he felt. Kidman seemed to share in that sentiment as she stood before them, pointing her gun directly at Sebastian's chest.

"I told you not to dig into this!" she shouted. "I told you to leave well enough alone! Joseph's blood is on your hands. He's dying because of you. This is all your fault!"

"I..." he stammered helplessly.

"Are you satisfied now?" she asked. "You said you wanted to kill someone. Are you happy that it ended up being Joseph?"

"No," he shook his head. "No, goddamn it. He's not dead!"

"You deserve this!" she yelled.

She pulled the trigger. The force of her bullet slamming into his chest knocked him onto his back, and the heat and friction from the discharge set his vest ablaze. The whole world around him erupted into flames, and he squinted and struggled to see through the smoke.

Sebastian rolled over onto his stomach, feeling too weak to get up. His whole life was melting around him - walls and furniture and family photos. Off in the corner, behind a curtain of fire, Myra clung protectively to Lily. Sebastian reached for them. Lily's eyes met his.

"Daddy!"

The ceiling crumbled atop them. Sebastian screamed.

And then woke up.

He jolted to consciousness, sweating and shivering. The only light in the room was the cold glow of Joseph's TV, displaying the Netflix title menu for the last movie they'd watched. To his right, Hina glared at him for waking her up. To his left, Joseph blinked awake slowly, rubbing at his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses.

"Seb?" Joseph asked. "Is everything alright?"

Still trembling, Sebastian put a hand to his head and leaned forward in his seat. Nightmares were a pretty regular occurrence for him ever since the fire, but this one had been different. It _felt_ different - more like a premonition than an actual dream, even though logically he knew that was ridiculous. He licked his lips and took a deep, unsteady breath. It didn't help.

"Seb?"

"Joseph," he croaked. "Do you think of me as being a dangerous person?"

"I, uh," Joseph stammered, seemingly caught off guard by the question. "I think you have the capability of being extremely dangerous, yes, but I don't necessarily think that you _are_."

"And do you trust me?" he asked. "Do you trust my judgment?"

"With my life," Joseph said honestly.

That was what Sebastian was afraid he was going to say. He sighed and dropped his hand into his lap, feeling hollow. It was too late to turn back now. He'd already committed to his personal investigation; he couldn't stop or back out now.

But he couldn't let Joseph get involved, either. He'd been entertaining the idea earlier, but he knew for sure now that it just wasn't an option. It could very well be the case that Myra was right - that Joseph _was_ the most powerful weapon in his arsenal - but Joseph was a _person,_ not some blunt instrument and not some tool to be used. Sebastian couldn't stand the thought of losing him due to his own recklessness.

"It was just a bad dream," he said, more to himself than to Joseph. He rose to his feet with a shake of his head. "I think it's time I retreated to the futon."

"Probably a good idea," Joseph said. "Leave the door cracked so that Hina can get in and out. She usually prefers sleeping with you when you're here instead of me."

Sebastian nodded numbly. Without another word, he turned and headed for the guest room.

"Sebastian," Joseph called out.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to face him.

"If you were seriously considering doing something dangerous," Joseph said, "you'd tell me, wouldn't you? We're partners. I'll have your back through anything."

The words cut him to the bone. Sebastian simply stood there for a few seconds, trying to make sense of everything in his head. The most terrifying part was that he believed him - that if he opened up to Joseph about this investigation, his partner wouldn't for a second try to dissuade him or throw him off course. Joseph would be right there with him, through thick and thin, as they fought to get justice for Myra and Lily.

That was why he loved him. It was more than just a schoolboy crush. Joseph was Sebastian's safe haven; his right arm; his second half. He couldn't stand the thought of living without him, especially not after having lost so much already. And as much as Joseph would've wanted to help, and as invaluable as his aid would be Sebastian just couldn't bring himself to tell the truth this time. Enough people had already died on his account.

"Trust me, Joseph," he said. "You'd be the first one to know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BUT WAIT! THE STORY'S NOT OVER YET!
> 
> I wrote an epilogue. I couldn't help myself. I wasn't satisfied with this ending, even though it does rightfully close a chapter on Sebastian's life and opens up a new one. There just needs to be something a little bit more...
> 
> Just as always, your feedback is unbelievably appreciated. I'm so touched that so many people have been following and sharing this story. Thank you so much for reading. We're in the home stretch now.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The official theme song of the epilogue is "Still Counting" by Volbeat.

**Unknown Month, Unknown Day, 201?**

Detectives didn't respond to calls the way lower-ranked officers did. They weren't first responders; they weren't the boots on the ground. They almost never made arrests. They needed to be invited into crime scenes. For all intents and purposes, detectives were glorified paper pushers. Desk jockeys. As a result, they were very rarely in any real danger out in the line of duty.

That went double for Sebastian. As a homicide detective, most of the people he had to deal with were already dead. The others were grieving families and spooked witnesses. The only time he ever hung around a person that was even possibly dangerous was within the safety of the police department itself, usually during interrogations. 

Of course, he wasn't immune to the danger, and sometimes suspects and perpetrators _did_ hang around after their crime. Myra had learned that the hard way the day she was shot. Joseph had also learned it the hard way the day he'd taken that suckerpunch to the face and ended up beating the suspect into submission immediately after. Sebastian hadn't had to learn this yet; he'd been lucky. The last time he'd been in any real danger was back when he was a beat cop - a sergeant on the streets - but that had been about eight years ago now.

Even still, he made it a point to go over the rules of use of force in his head every single time he went to a scene or faced a witness. He wondered if he'd ever truly need it. Today might be the day, even though he wasn't going into this on official duty - and, in fact, the KCPD could never know what it was he was actually doing. He still sure as shit was dressed as a detective, though, and his badge was clipped to his belt and hidden behind the open panel of his trench coat. The badge was a double-edged sword - it acted as a shield in the sense that people were less likely to take a swing at a cop, but it increased his chances of getting caught by about a thousand percent.

Though, a part of him wondered what getting caught would even do at this point. Phi had given him so many "final warnings" that it was downright laughable. They had no proof, and the union would never stand for a case to be filed for his termination without proper evidence.

 _Use of force is simple,_ he heard his instructor's voice from the academy in his head. _You can only go one degree higher than your attacker, and it's only ever to be used to quell any impending danger. Once the danger stops,_ you _have to stop, otherwise you become the aggressor. The use of force continuum is as follows: threat of presence, spoken commands, empty hand control, non-lethal weapons, and lethal force._

He took a second to eject the magazine from his handgun and check to make sure that the clip was full. It was. Even though Sebastian had checked and rechecked several times before even leaving his car, and he'd done a meticulous job of cleaning his weapon before leaving the house, he couldn't help but be paranoid. One miscount, one backfire, one jam - that was all it would take to end his life if things got ugly.

_Let me be completely clear about this: a gun is only ever lethal force. Do not draw your gun unless you intend to fire it. Do not fire your gun unless you intend to kill with it. Therefore, do not draw your gun unless you have already made the decision to take a person's life._

Eight shots. Seven in the cartridge and one in the chamber. This was in his personal handgun, not the one he carried to work. Sebastian just didn't feel safe with a 9mm today. The thing was practically a bb gun. It had no stopping power at all; he'd have to land a critical hit in order to get someone to drop with that piddly little thing, and he sincerely doubted his ability to do that. While he was a great shot at the range, he'd never opened fire on a human being before. Not once throughout this entire investigation, and not even when Myra had been shot; he'd been too busy seeing to her injury to even consider pursuing the gunman.

No, he carried his .45 M1911 today. He'd had half a mind to take his Colt revolver with him instead, simply because he liked the way it handled better, but that would've left him with only six shots to his name. Six shots weren't enough. Hell, even eight were too few - his 9mm could hold sixteen - but it would just have to do. 

Sebastian tucked his weapon into the holster under his arm and shrugged his coat back into place. It was time.

_Once you open fire, you must keep firing until your clip is empty, even if the target has already fallen. You have already attacked them with intent to kill, so you'd better make damn sure that either they're dead or you're out of ammo. Otherwise, you'll have no defense in court as to why you felt the need to resort to deadly force in the first place._

The bar he'd agreed to meet at was a total festering shit hole. It was just outside the jurisdiction of the Krimson City police - a town on the other side of the border of Elk River. While the KCPD lent its services to a few of the smaller neighboring suburbs, this wasn't one of them. As a matter of fact, Sebastian couldn't ever recall being out this way before in his life. It was a tiny little town right up against the shoreline, populated almost entirely by fishermen and their families, and so small that it didn't even have its own school district. Kids went to another town for that.

A thick haze of cigarette smoke greeted Sebastian as he pushed his way through the wooden double doors. It didn't bother his veteran smoker's lungs, but it did obscure his vision slightly. It was reminiscent of the smoke that'd stung at his eyes and barred his path all those many many months ago now when he'd stormed into his still-burning house. Already, he was on guard. This felt deliberate. Whoever he was meeting with, whatever they knew, whatever they wanted, they didn't invite him here to play nice. That was fine by him; he was quickly forgetting the meaning of the word "nice" anyway. There were only a few patrons dotted throughout the room, and they all appeared to be sullen old men grumbling to each other over the rims of their lagers.

Sebastian took a seat at a table in the far corner of the room, just as he'd been instructed. The chair he sat in was off balance on its front left leg, and the seat cushion was torn open slightly and hemorrhaging yellow padding. He tried not to let it bother him. It didn't really look like any other pieces of furniture around the place were in much better shape, but it was hard to see in the dim lighting. Even the table itself had surely seen better days; the wood was chipped, cracked, and nicked in several places, and there were a few spots where it looked like it'd been cut with something a little heavier and a little sharper than a steak knife.

It wasn't long before he saw a figure approaching him through the fog - just one - tall and slender and decidedly feminine. She took the seat opposite of his and folded her hands neatly on the tabletop, offering Sebastian a warm smile.

"Good evening, Detective," she said. "Where's your wife tonight?"

It was the woman from the bar that day of the Giants game - when he and Joseph had gone out for his birthday. The brunette with the purple eyes and the scarf around her face. Today, her face was uncovered, but he still couldn't see her clearly in the haze of the dark, smoky room. Her outerwear had been swapped out for a pressed and pristine black suit, and while he couldn't see very well, he was sure that that same strange emblem was embroidered on the breast of her jacket. 

Sebastian's heart leaped into his throat. She knew who he was, and she must have known what he wanted.

And he didn't know a damn thing about her. He was already in over his head.

_So many officers make that stupid fucking mistake, but believe me when I tell you that you're not some hero in an action movie. You're just some schmuck with a badge._

"She had to work late," he said cautiously, parroting his response from that day so many months ago, "as much as she would've loved to have been here."

"I hope she's well," the woman said. "It seems like she's always off working. It's easy to burn out that way. Especially in a field like law enforcement. Your stress levels must be through the roof."

Sebastian didn't respond to that - not immediately. That strange way of talking she'd had back then was still present, like she was distracted and droning on a pre-written script that she'd recited one too many times. He felt so completely out of his element here, and without Myra or Joseph to back him up, he wasn't sure how to act. Not only did this woman know everything about him, but she seemed to know a great deal about his wife, too. He could have very well been speaking with Myra's kidnapper - or her killer.

If only he could see her goddamn face.

The mysterious woman pulled out a pack of cigarettes and fished one out for herself before offering one to Sebastian. As much as the smell of this place made him want to smoke, he waved away her offer for now. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but who the hell knew what they could've been laced with. She simply shrugged and put the pack away before lighting up her smoke and looking at him expectantly for his answer.

"You know that I'm not here to talk about my health," he said finally.

"Of course not, Detective," she said. "You came here because you wanted to learn more about Mobius."

Mobius? That was the first time he'd ever heard that word in his life. He'd been invited to the bar after receiving an anonymous letter stating that the sender had information as to Myra's whereabouts - and they backed up that claim by attaching a photo of her back license plate along with it. Was Mobius the name of something Myra had been chasing before she disappeared?

"But I'm afraid I can't let you do that," the woman droned on.

It was only then that Sebastian realized that every single patron at the bar had turned around and locked their sights on him.

_Your gun is not a tool to be used for intimidation or incapacitation._

He sat patiently and tried not to panic. If he panicked, they would catch him. They would _kill_ him. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind about it. 

The bartender slipped out from behind the bar and locked the doors. The other patrons all rose to their feet.

Fuck.

Not for the first time, Sebastian wished he'd involved Joseph in the investigation and had him at his side. He stood and reached for his gun.

_The second you draw your gun, your target should already be dead in your mind._

They were quicker on the draw. Before he even got his hand on the grip of his weapon, guns were already pointed at him from across the room. He froze in place, feeling his throat begin to close and his heart pound in his chest. He had to find a way out. There was no way he could shoot his way through all these people; they'd kill him long before he even got his first round off.

The mysterious woman snuffed her cigarette out right on the tabletop and slowly rose to her feet. Even as she approached him, he couldn't make out the features of her face. They were blurred and obscured by the veil of smoke between them. It made his skin crawl.

"Now, now," she said. Her odd droning almost seemed to be mocking him. "Let's not go doing something we'll regret."

"What do you people want from me?" he asked.

" _We,_ " she said, "didn't want anything from you at all. It was-"

Before she even finished her sentence, Sebastian grabbed her, turned her, and held her back against his chest as a shield. The barrel of his gun was pressed beneath her jaw line, though he honestly didn't even remember drawing it at all.

"Open the fucking door," he ordered.

The goons on the other side of the room hesitated, but only for a second. Their final response was to train their guns on him. Several cocked their weapons in anticipation to fire.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told your wife," the woman in his arms said.

His blood turned to ice in his veins, and Sebastian pulled back the hammer on his own pistol. This woman had talked to his wife. Known his wife. _Taken_ his wife. Probably killed her, too. He wanted to pull the trigger right then and there - blow her fucking head off - and to hell with whatever it was she had to say.

But he couldn't do that. Myra had asked him for justice, not revenge. Murdering a woman in cold blood wasn't just, no matter who she was or what she'd done.

She stuck him with something. The needle sank deep into the muscle of his thigh.

"We are all expendable."

_If you can't handle that, then don't draw your gun. It's just that simple._

The world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote, folks. I'm under the impression that the game itself took place in 2014, but I have no idea when it was that Sebastian was actually snatched by Mobius.
> 
> I would LOVE to do a sequel to this, picking up from the end of the final chapter and following Sebastian's illegal investigation up until the point he goes missing. The chapter theme song makes me want to write that like nobody's business. Unfortunately, the game just doesn't give us enough information for me to feel comfortable doing that just yet. I'll wait until after the DLCs are released. If they give us something to work with then, great. If not, also great, I'll just do my own thing.
> 
> Thank you so, so, SO much for taking this journey with me. This is the first multi-chapter story I have EVER finished in my life - fanfiction OR original content - and I'm so unbelievably proud of myself for doing this. I'm also so incredibly touched that I had you wonderful people with me the whole time following me down this rabbit hole and cheering me on. This story belongs to you just as much as it belongs to me. Thank you for reading, thank you for your feedback, and thank you for your support. I'm honored to have written this story for this fandom, and I'm excited to keep writing for it.
> 
> Even at the end of all things, I'm still happy to receive any constructive criticism on my writing. Once again, thank you all. Happy new year and God bless.


End file.
